Live Again
by TheMistressElegance
Summary: "Love is friendship that has caught fire" Agatha Campbell would have died if Ezra hadn't happened by that day, without his kindness and that of the Seven, she may still have died. With kindness there often comes love, and when love comes from two different directions at once, which do you choose?
1. Chapter 1

The day dawned bright and sunny, a beautiful day for the ride back to Four Corners. Chaucer was lively, prancing and snorting in the cool, early morning mist. Ezra didn't hold many things close to his heart, but he had to admit that his horse was certainly one of those few things that he did. As a matter of fact, he would have to say his relationship with his horse was the closest and longest he'd ever had in life. And among those relationships he included that of himself and his mother.

After a few miles, Chaucer settled down to an easy pace, he had a smooth gait that Ezra loved; you could ride a long time on Chaucer without suffering any ill effects. Man and horse were just beginning up a steep incline at that smooth, steady gait when all of a sudden Chaucer leapt to the side and began to snort again. He rolled his eyes and sidestepped and refused to go any further. When Ezra prodded him with his heels, he accomplished nothing but a series of flighty dance moves that nearly unseated him.

"Now, you know my dear equine friend, how fond I am of you. And I am wont to sing your praises, but you are behaving rather poorly."

Ezra stopped prodding and sat for a moment, feeling his horse quiver ever so slightly in alertness. His nostrils flared and his ears pointed directly ahead of them, to the top of the hill.

After a few moments, the wind shifted ever so slightly and Ezra caught the faint smell of smoke. Now he understood; a horse positively hates the smell of smoke, and they won't willingly go towards it when it's in their nature to flee in the other direction. They also hate the smell of fresh blood, although it takes an awful lot for a human to be able to detect that.

It smelled like wood smoke, but there was no roar or heat which would indicate that the landscape ahead of them was on fire. It was either a farmer burning off his grass, or a homestead that had caught fire. Dismounting he took hold of Chaucer's bridle and began to ascend the steep hill. Chaucer was happier to be led onwards, trusting his rider implicitly.

As they crested the hill, a valley stretched out below them and there, a short ways off to the right, was the charred remains of a house and a barn, and perhaps a chicken coop or shed. A horse and a few chickens were roaming in the distance, dazed and covered in soot. The horse whinnied when he saw Chaucer come over the rise, and came galloping over.

Ezra dropped his horse's reins, trusting him to stay near while he explored what was left of the house. Stepping over the threshold he nearly put a foot directly onto the remains of a body. Gasping he pulled his foot bakc and withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his lips to mask the strong, acrid smell that assaulted his nostrils.

There was another body near the collapsed stairway. This one was unmarred, he must have died from the smoke, after the fire had moved further on through the house. He was young, probably no more than eleven, and Ezra felt bile rise in his throat, tears burning behind his eyes.

He would have to find a shovel and dig these two people a grave, but not before he had finished searching the house. There could be more unfortunate souls somewhere in this burned out mess.

When he had tiptoed throughout the house and was satisfied that there were only two people who needed burying he came back through to the front door. He was about to go in search of a shovel, when he heard a rustling behind the stones of the fireplace chimney, which was only partially standing.

He stood stock still and listened. There it was again, louder this time. And then a weak voice called out something inaudible. But still, it was a voice! There was someone else here, someone who was still alive.

Frantically he leapt over the piles of rubble and began tearing at the only possible place that could still be harbouring someone. Beams had fallen crosswise over some of the stones from the chimney, creating an apex under which someone could just fit, if they weren't too big. Sure enough, when he began to move the burnt wood aside, something stirred underneath and soon a hand reached out to him, blackened but strong enough to grip his.

"Hold on, I'll get you out," he said. "Just hold on, am I hurting you?"

"No," the voice answered back, weakly. "Please help me..." the voice trailed off and Ezra worried he was too late.

Finally a figure emerged, crumpled and tucked away as if this shelter had been constructed just to fit her frame. She was covered in soot head to toe, and her chest was rising and falling only barely. He imagined she had inhaled a great deal of smoke, and that she may have been burned underneath the ash that hid her skin.

"I have to get you out of here," he said, but she didn't answer. Taking her in his arms he lifted her, ignoring the stains he was bound to create on his favourite jacket. Whispering an apology, he begged forgiveness for leaving the bodies, but he knew the girl left living was more important than burying the dead.

Riding hard, until Chaucer was puffing and sweating, Ezra came into the town of Lone Pine. They had no doctor, but a man experienced in medicine, like Nathan. What Ezra would have given for Nathan at that moment, at least he was someone, he admitted to himself, that he could trust. As it was, he turned the young woman over to this strange man and hoped for the best.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

There was no telegraph office in Lone Pine so Ezra had no way of sending word back to Four Corners to let the others know he wouldn't be back at the prearranged date. He didn't expect them to ride out and begin a search for him until he was at least three days late, but he didn't want to worry them or let them down. He realized that was an attitude he'd ever taken before, so to reassure himself of his distance and his professionally cool demeanour he told himself it was because he didn't want to give them any more reasons to criticize him. Gentlemen had been drawn to duels to settle scores like that.

Thankfully there was a small saloon to be found, distastefully located between the livery and the blacksmith, so that there was the smell of manure and whinnying of horses on the one side and the constant pounding and banging and the smell of hot metal from the other. However, he found that the whiskey wasn't watered down and the food wasn't the worst he'd ever eaten.

Upstairs were a few rooms to rent and he took one for the night. For the first time in a long time he had no desire for a card game, and when he had undressed and gotten into the relatively clean bed, he found he couldn't sleep. He was dead tired, but every time he closed his eyes, there was that little boys face, peaceful but devoid, the way the dead always looked. He'd never seen the body of such a young child and he found it disturbed him greatly. He couldn't console himself with the fact that he would have felt no real pain, or that it wasn't a violent death. He may not have felt pain, but he would never feel anything again. Not pain, not joy or love, what might he have grown up to be experiencing those things? Which young woman might he have made a happy wife and mother? Whoever those phantom family members could have been they would never exist now, not in that way.

Ezra had seen dead men; he had killed men. But not without cause, not without some sin on their soul or evil in their heart. And they had lived, and known life. They'd made decisions to lead them to their deaths, the boy had no choice. What sins could possibly be on his conscience? None that were punishable by death, Ezra knew that much for certain.

And so, he sat up all night in the darkness and didn't sleep a wink. He sat on the single chair in his room and stared out the window until he saw the horizon become slightly less black, then a watery grey, and then watched it bathe in the reddish orange glow of dawn. Dressing once again he strapped on his holster and carefully set his hat on his head. Smoothing the wrinkles out of the blankets he put the chair back in the corner and went downstairs where he skipped breakfast but requested a cup of coffee.

It was still very early but he went down the street to where he had left the girl last night and rapped softly on the door. The sawbones opened the door up after a few moments, blinking against the light, which was much brighter than in the little house, where all the curtains were still drawn.

"I've come to check on the girl," he said.

"She's awake, come on through," the healer said gruffly.

They manouvered a dark hallway and then came to a room which took up the entire back of the house. There was a table, a bed and a cabinet with several bottles of pills and potions. Next to the bed was a chair with the singed remains of the girl's nightdress draped over it and on the other side of the bed a pitcher and wash basin on a stand.

"Is she all right?" Ezra whispered.

"She'll live, I reckon. Done the best I can for her anyway."

With that he turned and left, so that only Ezra was standing in the doorway.

Sensing she was being watched, the girl opened her eyes and gingerly sat up in the bed, wincing. Ezra could hardly tell what color her hair was it was so blackened by ash, and although it must have been of a fairly long length before, at least six inches would need to be removed, if not more, after having been burned.

There were white bandages on her arms and hands, and one around her neck. A hastily made up patch covered her right cheek, but her eyes seemed mercifully untouched, at least he supposed they were because she was looking straight at him.

"Didn't the doctor wash you?" he asked in concern, surely bandaging skin that way would cause a terrible infection.

"I washed where she was burned as well as I could," came the doctor's voice behind him. "It's a tricky thing with burns. Don't want the skin to come off."

Ezra cringed.

"Didn't figure washing her hair and putting it up in curls was too important yesterday, being she couldn't breath or move."

"No, quite right."

All this time she sat watching them from the bed, blinking slowly and cautiously rubbing her head with her bandaged hand. She said nothing and looked extremely confused.

"Was her head injured?" Ezra asked, observing her apparently simple minded behaviour.

"Not that I could see," the doctor replied, he pulled a bottle from his back pocket. "That'd be the laudanum you're seeing. I gave her a powerful dose of it last night when she came 'round."

"Is she in much pain?"

"You're damn right she is, burns is the worst. But more than that she was having a fit. Screaming and carrying on, she would have done herself terrible damage. So I gave her some to settle her down."

"Thank you, doctor," Ezra said, reaching out his hand for the bottle. To his surprise the man uncorked it, took a swallow, then re-corked it and handed it over.

Sitting himself down on the chair next to the bed, Ezra reached out and took the young girl's hand. It was difficult to tell how old she was, covered with bandages, laying in bed and slightly addled from the strong dose of painkiller, but he guessed she was perhaps 22.

They sat that way for perhaps an hour, not saying anything. The doctor did not return to check for impropriety of any sort, and Ezra wanted to believe he had come across as a gentleman who would never take advantage of a lady in such a vulnerable state, but he felt it was more likely that the man simply didn't care.

Finally, when he could tell by the look on her face that the painkiller was wearing off, he ventured a question.

"Can you speak?" he began.

After a hoarse croak that brought on a prolonged fit of coughing, the girl drank a glass of water and nodded.

"Yes," she said hoarsely.

"What's your name?"

"Agatha Campbell."

"Are you in much pain? I can give you some more elixir if you require it."

"Not yet," she turned to look him full on. "I need... You found the house?"

"Yes, and you inside of it. I don't waste much time on foolish notions but you must have a guardian angel, my dear."

"But, I wasn't alone?"

There was a desperate hope in her voice and Ezra's heart hitched in his chest. He remembered the young boy again and felt surprising tears prick the back of his eyes once more.

"No, my dear, you were not. But," he said before her hopes were raised any higher. "But..." he said again, and took both of her hands in his.

A horror filled her face, followed by the most extreme pain and sadness he had ever seen. As long as he lived, he would not forget the look on her face or what it did to the very soul of him.

"No," she said, not wanting to believe him. "No! Not William, and Mam?"

"I'm afraid so," Ezra said softly. William, that was the boy's name. At least now he had a name, and he wouldn't remain an unknown corpse weighing heavily on his mind.

Agatha broke down and began to sob, which brought on another fit of coughing. She refused water and sobbed and coughed and choked until he feared she would slip into full blown hysteria. Not trusting her with the bottle, he poured some laudanum into a cup and forced her to drink it. Shortly her sobbing slowed and her ragged breathing was more measured. He stayed with her until she fell into a drug induced stupor, and then back to sleep once again, not sure what else to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

Here's the third chapter of the "Live Again" fic. Thanks for the reviews and follows, I hope you're enjoying so far. It would be great if you could let me know how you're liking it so I know whether to continue uploading or not.

CHAPTER THREE

"Ezra should've been back by now," Buck said to Chris one morning in the saloon. He had been due back four days before and they had had no word from him, explaining his absence.

"I know it," Chris said, putting on hand on his hip and leaning against the bar.

"Oh, don't worry about, Ez," Vin chimed in. "He's probably caught himself a run of good luck at a card table somewhere and don't want to give it up."

"You're probably right. Ain't the first time he's followed his own interests and forgotten about us for a while," Chris agreed. But still, there was a worry nagging at the back of his mind. The six men he worked with had become more than colleagues or even friends, they were a family of sorts, and he didn't like the thought of Ezra being in trouble and needing help when they weren't there.

Everyone could tell Chris was pondering the situation and so they didn't say anything, but instead waited for his final word on the subject. It was a full cup of coffee before he came to a conclusion.

"It's probably nothin'. You all stay here and I'll ride out and see if I can't find him somewhere along the way," Chris said.

"You sure you wanna go alone?" J.D, asked. "There could be trouble."

"If there's trouble, Chris on his own is as good as Chris with you taggin' along," Buck teased the boy good naturedly.

There was a round of laughs at J.D.'s expense, which didn't please him, but no more was said about it, and Chris went over to the livery and tacked up his horse. It was a pleasant enough day for a ride and he expected to find Ezra, just as Vin had said, playing poker somewhere, completely unaware of the distress he may have caused by failing to turn up at the expected time. No matter, Chris had found that he didn't get as angry with the gambler as he used to. Maybe it had something to do with getting to know him better, knowing a man by his heart instead of just by his actions can lead you to see him in a different light, although no one would quite call Chris the "tolerant" kind.

Ezra had lingered in town four days past the time he should have been back in Four Corners and he was getting restless. He had no intention of leaving Agatha on her own here, but he needed to be returning to his job, and - more importantly - his featherbed.

On the fourth day, Agatha insisted she was well enough to return to her farm. The thought of her Mother and Brother laying there, unburied, had tortured her mind and heart since Ezra had explained to her exactly what he had found when he found her and how he had been forced to leave things.

Taking along a spade, he rented a horse for Agatha and the two set out to her destroyed home. The ride was an agony for her, he could tell, but she said nothing. Frequently he offered her laudanum but she refused, even though she was in terrific pain, insisting she wanted a clear head.

They dismounted a good way from the house and led their horses up to the house. When Agatha began to ascend the burned out porch and head for what remained of the front door, Ezra stopped her.

"I'll bring them out, Agatha. Don't go in there, I beg of you. Spare yourself what I have seen."

She didn't argue, but nodded and went out into the yard, wandering aimlessly. She clapped and whistled a few times, he could hear her from inside, and he didn't know why until he heard the whinny of a third horse. It must have been the one he'd seen when he had first road up to this place five days ago, which he had entirely forgotten about. Poor creature, waiting here for someone to come for him. As he looked down at William, he had the same thought again.

Carefully he carried the boy out and laid him down on the grass a good way from the house, then went back for Agatha's mother, which he feared might unhinge her entirely as there was not much left to say she had once been her mother.

When he returned and set one body down next to the other, he found Agatha tenderly washing her brother from head to toe using her apron and a pail of water from the well. There was so much love in her actions that it nearly broke his heart.

"I won't be much help digging," she said sorrowfully, in that fire tinged voice.

"I wouldn't let you even if you were," Ezra replied, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

Fortunately the ground was soft, and had been turned over once or twice before for farming. Within three hours he had both graves dug, side by side. Agatha had by this time made her brother as presentable as she could and folded his hands over his chest. It was unbelieveable that there were only a few small burns in his nightshirt, and nothing else to indicate he had come to any harm whatsoever.

Agatha knew that he had been found by the staircase, as Ezra had already told her everything. It was what she had expected anyway.

"I was coming to find him," she said. "He used to hide in the cupboard under the stairs when he was scared. I knew he would be there and I needed to get him out. I didn't know Mam was still upstairs, I guess she must have been. I could smell the smoke and..." she trailed off. After a few moments she swallowed hard and continued. "He wasn't all right, in his head, you know. Not all there, people said. But people are cruel. He was a special boy, the sweetest you could ever hope to find on this Earth, but he was nervous and scared of things. Sometimes he cried although he was a big boy of ten. He wasn't like other boys." She looked down and stroked his hair. Gently, she kissed his forehead and asked Ezra to help her lower him into his grave, but Ezra offered to do it himself. Her bandaged hands made her clumsy and although the boy was past feeling he didn't think Agatha would ever forgive herself if she dropped him.

After he had arranged his hands so that they were once again folded over his chest, he lowered her Mother into the grave also. Agatha barely looked at her, but Ezra felt that she loved her no less than her brother and didn't judge her. It was a terrible thing to be reminded of, and when he began to fill the graves in, he filled hers first. When both had been buried, Ezra went and stood with the horses, away from the family and Agatha and her grief. He heard her speaking over the two earthen mounds but not what she said. It was a half hour more before she came to where he was, a defeated look on her face. When he offered her the painkiller this time, she took it.

"I have nothing," she said.

To object would have been insensitive and a false comfort, so he said nothing.

"This," she gestured, and winced. "This was all we had. It's worth nothing now. I even wear hand me down clothes, I haven't got even a dress of my own."

The doctor had soicited a neighbour for an old dress, ill fitting and kept in better place with the apron she had been wearing, but which she had just buried with her brother.

"There is no reason to live."

Ezra's heart surged in his chest, and he suddenly offered the greatest act of kindness he had ever considered in his life.

"Come with me. I'll see you're taken care of. I have many friends where I reside, I promise you won't be alone. You can't stay here, not now."

"Mam wouldn't have wanted me travelling with a strange man, unaccompanied." she looked up and searched his face. "I won't be that kind of woman."

He understood what she was saying. "My dear girl, I am a gentleman and I assure you Ihave never taken advantage of a lady, though I have been known to cheat one or two at the card table. I have no intention of making you my mistress, I offer you friendship and assistance and plead with you to take it. If only to ease my mind, as a friend."

Agatha looked back over her shoulder and then held her hand out to Ezra, tears streaming down her face. "I will go," she agreed. "If we shall be friends."

Ezra took her hand, and despite the dirtied and wet bandage, kissed the back of it as if she were the grandest lady in a European court.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews and follows. If you like the chapters let me know, it keeps me motivated to upload more!**

Although the so-called doctor insisted Agatha wasn't fit to travel, which was plain to see in the way she could barely keep her seat in the saddle, she wouldn't hear of spending another night in the back room of the surgery.

"If we're going, we need to go now. I can't stay here any longer."

No amount of arguing would change her mind, so Ezra took the rented horse back to the stables while she remained barely upright on her own steed, the steady plough horse she called Gilroy.

"Can't argue with a Scottish lass," the doctor said to Ezra on his return.

"Sir, I have yet to find a woman of any religion, race or creed that can be successfuly won over in a battle of words or will." He settled the bill and got a refilled bottle of laudanum, then took his seat on Chaucer once more.

"Agatha, are you sure you're alright?" he asked concernedly.

"Yes, fine. Just tired and... it's hard to breathe... that's all."

Ezra estimated the ride back to Four Corners would only take a day if everything went well. Then he could turn Agatha over to Nathan for proper care, and get a shot of Inez's best whiskey before falling into his feather bed for an extended rest.

They set out, the two of them, Agatha admitting that neither her horse nor her riding were as pretty as Ezra's, then she fell into silence and requested the laudanum frequently. So frequently that after four hours of riding, she slipped off her horse and fell in a heap on the ground in an insensible stupor.

Just as Ezra dismounted and forced her upright into a sitting position, a rider came towards them across the dry bunchgrass. He had his pistol and the derringer rig on his arm so he didn't pay the rider much attention until he had ridden right up behind them and stopped.

"I figured a card game or a good con would hold you up, but never a woman," the familiar voice of Chris Larabee intoned.

Ezra looked up to see the flat brimmed hat and the long black duster of his group's leader.

"Mr. Larabee, what could possibly bring you out here to this part of the territory?" Ezra asked in genuine surprise.

"You," Chris replied flatly. "What's wrong with the girl?"

"That's rather a long story. Right now, suffice it to say that she is suffering from a rather over-exuberant dose of laudanum."

"How'd she get hurt in the first place?"

"A fire. She needs the painkiller for the burns."

"What are you doing with a burnt girl, out here, four days late gettin' home?"

"Again, that's a long story, perhaps it could save telling until we're back in Four Corners?"

Agatha became semi conscious and groaned, shifting painfully on the ground.

"We'd better get her to Nathan," Chris confirmed. "Get her on her horse."

"I don't know that she can sit it in this condition," Ezra said uncertainly.

"Put her on your horse with you, then, and lets go."

Chris pushed hard on their return, leading Gilroy by the reins. Ezra didn't want to move as quickly as they did, worrying that it was doing Agatha more harm than good, but Chris wouldn't slow down now that he had decided to make tracks.

"It's either going to hurt a lot for a short while, or it's going to hurt all day if we don't get there soon," he reasoned.

Another four hours later, not even a whole day since Chris had ridden out that morning, and the three rode back into town, horses lathered and panting.

Chris immediately ordered J.D. to find Nathan, when he informed him that Nathan was already in his clinic, Ezra half carried, half walked Agatha up the long flight of stairs and into the healer's abode. Once there she sunk down onto the floor and completely lost conciousness.

Nathan, who had been brewing a simple pot of tea for a local woman suffering terrible headaches, was suddenly faced with the return of Ezra and an obviously injured stranger, toppling in over his doorstep.

"Ezra, what on Earth you doing here? Who's that girl?"

"Her name is Agatha and she needs your help."

"What's the matter with her?"

"She's burned, quite badly. I came upon a homestead not one week ago, burned to the ground. She was the only one to live, her family died and she had no where to go and no one to turn to, so I offered to bring her back to Four Corners with me."

"Get her on the bed," Nathan instructed.

He quickly began to cut and remove her bandages, whistling when he had gotten down to the skin of her right hand. Next he pulled the bandage off her cheek, tossing it into a basin next to the bed.

"Who did this doctorin'?" Nathan demanded.

"The only man with any expertise that I could find."

"You can't lay a bandage right over raw skin that way. We got to get these bandages off of her, quick." He paused a moment and put his ear to her chest.

"She ain't breathing too good. She got touched by the fire, might have damaged her lungs. The smoke wouldn't help much either."

He stood back and looked down at her, unsure where to start. "Damn it Ezra!" he exploded suddenly, "She shouldn't have been moved so soon!"

"There wasn't much else for me to do, Mr. Jackson," Ezra said coolly.

"Get all those bandages off of her," Nathan ordered, settling from his outburst. "There's an old Indian woman, best person I know for dealing with burns. I'll bring her here and see if she can't make some salves, heal this girl up."

"I'd appreciate it," Ezra said. "Indeed, I don't want any harm to come to Miss Campbell. The fire was truly... devastating."

Nathan nodded and disappeared out the door, quickly making his way down the stairs and to his horse, who stood saddled, ready to deliver the tea Nathan had been brewing. But for now, it would have to wait, and Nathan spurred him towards the small Indian encampment outside of town, where he had met the medicine woman and spoken to her about their craft many times. He hoped that she would have the knowledge that they needed now.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad some of you are enjoying the story. Not a very long chapter, sorry. I'll upload another soon.**

Ezra peeled the bandages off of Agatha's burns and then sat with her as she occasionally stirred and groaned. She didn't regain conciousness and her breathing became more and more laboured as time passed. Ezra fought down the urge to be angry at Nathan for his slow return, he knew the healer would be doing his best to get what he needed and get back as soon as he could.

Finally, he heard footsteps on the stairs outside and then advancing along the small verandah that led to the clinic door. Nathan opened the door and came in, followed by a short squat woman with sun bronzed skin and long black hair plaited into two braids. Her hair must once have been lustrous and shining black, but was now threaded through with an equal amount of silver strands, giving her, if not the air of youth, than an air of dignity and wisdom.

She brushed past Ezra as if he wasn't there, moving straight to Agatha's bedside. Like Nathan, she examined the burns and then put her ear to the girl's chest. She had a leather satchel over her shoulder and she set it on a chair next to the bureau where Nathan kept his assorted basins and pitchers and surgical tools. She rummaged through it and withdrew a drawstring pouch. She turned to Ezra and placed it in his hands.

"Boil this with the bandages. Cool them and put them on the light burns."

Ezra nodded and went to the stove in the corner. It had been warm and no fire had been lit for some time, but he threw kindling and sawdust into the fire box and held a match to it. To hurry the process he threw a little kerosene in it from a bottle he assumed was kept there for that purpose when a hot fire was needed in a hurry. The wood went up with a _whoosh_ and he filled a pot to put on top.

Nathan was working side by side with the medicine woman, grinding something with a mortar and pestle.

"Can I be of any further use to you?" Ezra inquired.

The woman waved her hand. "No. Too many people moving in here is no good."

"We'll take care of Agatha," Nathan assured him. "I'll come and get you if anything changes."

Ezra nodded and looked once more at Agatha before leaving. Once out on the street he realized how tired he was, and was suddenly aware of how dirty he felt, covered in road dust. He went to the hotel and offered one of the girls who ran errands and tended to the kitchen matters twenty-five cents to heat a bathtub of water for him. She pocketed the money and scurried into the back where he knew a massive four oven stove was kept going constantly.

"Well, how's Agatha?" Chris asked, leaning against the bar and rolling one of the dark little cigars he was so fond of.

"I don't know. Nathan and an Indian woman are tending to her. He says she wasn't bandaged properly and her lungs are damaged by smoke."

Ezra threw back a whiskey and ordered another, slamming his glass down on the counter.

"You did the best you could, no matter what happens now."

"Indeed. I saved her life. She would have died in that house if I hadn't come along."

"Then don't think about it now. Wait until Nathan tells you what's what."

"Oh, believe me. He already has," Ezra said, finishing his second whiskey.

At length the girl came into the bar and informed Ezra that his bath was ready.

Before he could leave, the rest of the Seven came traipsing into the bar, loud and jocular as always.

"Hey Ezra," JD called. "Heard you got hung up with a pretty girl."

"You scoundrel you," Buck added, waggling his eyebrows. "I knew you loved lady luck but I never thought a real lady would charm you."

"Certainly I'm not immune to a lady's finer qualities. And yes, a pretty girl I did find on my way home, I only hope she lives to charm me once again."

With that he went into the back to take his bath, his feet dragging with exhaustion.

"What did he mean by that?" JD asked, taken aback.

"He found the woman in a house fire. Nathan says she's hurt pretty bad."

"Burnt?" Vin asked.

"From what I saw," Chris nodded. "But not so bad she won't recover. I think it's her breathin' that's got Nathan worried."

Chris abruptly turned his back to them and crushed his smoke out on the bar. He suddenly seemed to be more shaken than Ezra, and Buck, who had been his friend for longer than anyone else he'd ever known, abruptly changed the subject and offered to buy everyone a beer. He could draw a conclusion quick as lightening as to what had Chris upset. Hadn't he also mourned when Chris's wife and son were killed in a housefire?

Although no one had all the information they wanted, they didn't make mention of it again until Chris had turned on his heel and left the saloon, the janglingo f his spurs fading as he moved away down the boardwalk. JD tried to pry a second time but was cut short by a swift elbow in the stomach from Buck.

"Quiet son, and drink your beer," Josiah advised.

"I can always drink it for you if you ain't man enough," Buck commented, grinning. This sent JD off on a tangent about his obvious maturity and being as manly as any of them, setting the tone a bit higher and causing good natured chuckling and teasing around the table.

Chris, although he hadn't intended to, ended up outside the clinic door. He didn't knock or enter, but just stood there, thinking about Sarah and hoping he wouldn't see another woman perish in such a dreadful way. If Agatha lived, he'd have to admit that maybe there was some order in the world after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: How are you all liking it so far? Let me know what you think of Agatha and my representation of the Seven. And, as always, please review if you want more :)**

It was late that night before Nathan emerged from his clinic for a breath of fresh air. He found Chris leaning against the railing, watching over the street below. He could hear Vin and Josiah talking quietly down below, they were on patrol for the night, but it was quiet enough that they hadn't parted ways and rounded up any trouble makers.

"How's the girl?" Chris asked, without turning around. He lifted his hand in a wave as Vin and Josiah became visible below.

"Any news?" Josiah called up.

Nathan came and stood beside Chris. He had a rough sack cloth draped over his shoulder that he used as a towel. He wiped his face with it and threw it over his other shoulder.

"She'll live," he answered. "But I can't say how well those burns'll heal, or wether she'll be able to breathe easy for some time yet."

Behind them, they heard the door open and the Indian woman emerged. "Do as I told you. I left what you need," she said. She smiled at Nathan. "You're a good medicine man," she said.

"Thank you ma'am. Do you want a ride back to the reservation?"

She took a deep breath and looked up at the starry sky. "No. I will walk," she said simply. And she did.

"Saved from the fires of Hell and the grip of the Devil," Josiah commented. "Hallelujah."

"Is she awake?" Chris asked.

"Yep. Came to about an hour ago. You can go on ahead and see her, if you like. I'm going to get myself a hot meal and a good sleep."

"Sure," Chris said. "Her name's Agatha, isn't it?"

Nathan nodded.

Chris went into the clinic quietly. He didn't intend to say anything, just to sit and think and keep an eye on her as long as Nathan was gone, but she was awake and alert and greeted him when he came in.

"Where's Ezra?"

"Sleeping, I imagine."

"I remember you," she said, "but not your name."

"It's Chris."

She lay back on the pillows and looked up at the ceiling.

"Are you friends with Ezra?" she asked.

"Much as anyone is, I guess."

"I want to thank him. Again," she said. She glanced around the room. "If I'd had to stay behind where Mam and William were buried... I don't know what I'd do. Died I guess, even if he did pull me out of the house."

"William's your brother?"

"He was. He was killed in the fire. Mam, too. There's no one left but me."

Chris felt a pang in his heart, he knew exactly how she felt. Like the whole world had suddenly collapsed into a black, bottomless pit, and there you were just teetering on the edge of it.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," she replied. She lifted one bandaged hand and clumsily wiped at the tears that sprang to her eyes. Chris took a rag from the bureau and dabbed at her eyes, clearing away her tears before they absorbed into the bandage on her cheek. The tenderness he displayed surprised them both and only served to make Agatha cry harder.

"Hush now," Chris said gruffly, but with a hitch in his voice. "There's no need to cry, it don't change anything. I know."

Agatha bit her lip and did her best to stem the flow of tears. After a while she succeeded, although she had to blink furiously every few minutes to keep from spilling over again.

Chris stood up and walked to the window. It was too dark now to see anything but the glow from other people's windows and the lanterns hung outside the houses and businesses. He was fighting tears himself and Agatha turned to look at him.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly. "Have I upset you?"

"No it ain't nothin' you did. I..."

He brushed at his own tears, impatiently, frustrated that he didn't have control over his own emotions. He pulled a chair right up close to Agatha's bedside and sat there, hands clasped together, arms resting on his knees. Maybe he'd planned on telling her everything right from the minute he mounted the stairs, or maybe he'd just decided in that moment. He didn't know, but for whatever reason he began to tell her about Sarah and Adam. He started right from the beginning, when he'd first met Sarah, to the birth of their son and then the terrible fire that had taken their lives. He even told her about Ella, who was out there somewhere, plotting still.

"I ain't never killed a woman before," Chris said. "But I intend to kill her."

Agatha reached out and laid her bandaged hand on his rough one. He cried and so did she, until her breathing was ragged and she could hardly catch her breath. Chris brought her a cup of water and tried to soothe her, comforting himself by comforting her. "You've got to breathe. Just breathe, don't want to damage your lungs any more."

"I'm sorry, Chris," she said, in between gasps. Addressing him familiarly, with naked kindness in her voice.

"It's a terrible thing. I want to tell you it gets easier, and I guess it does. But it never goes away, and sometimes it isn't that the memories don't hurt anymore, it's just that they aren't so clear."

"How do you go on, day to day?" she asked. "Every time I close my eyes, I see my sweet little William's face. Do you see your wife and son when you close your eyes?"

Chris nodded. "Everyday. If I knew how to help you, I would. And I know that right now you just want to be alone with all of those terrible thoughts flying around in your head, but I also know that ain't the way to do it. Found out the hard way it's better to have friends around, people you can trust, just a few folks you can lean on makes all the difference."

"I don't know anyone here, I have no friends but those I might make later."

"You have friends," Chris reassured her. "Even if you don't know us yet, we're here. Until you get the chance to make more just know that you do have folks you can count on. There's Ezra for a start. And there's me," he added.

He rubbed her bandaged hand with his, softly.

"Maybe we could just sit here together and talk about good things," Agatha suggested.

"I ain't going anywhere," Chris replied.

He sat in the chair next to her bed, alternately talking and dozing most of the night until the sun broke over the horizon and a new day began.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This one is a really short chapter - sorry! Thanks so much for the reviews, it makes it easier to keep uploading if I know people are enjoying the story. I promise some romance in later chapters - but with who? ;)**

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nearly a month passed and it seemed that Aggie might never heal. Her skin burned with an intensity worse than it had when the fire had raged around her. She could scarcely move for the pain it caused. She asked Nathan if her skin had all melted together and why she couldn't seem to find a position that created flexibility or slack; he would only say it was common with burns and didn't answer her questions to her satisfaction.

"I wish I had died," she sobbed, lying in agony on the small cot in Nathan's clinic, blisters growing painfully large and taut before bursting forth with a clear fluid unlike any wound she had ever seen before.

"You should have left me there!" she railed at Ezra when he came in to see her.

"Shh, don't say that," he said softly, his patience infinite and surprising even him.

He boiled the bandages in the mixture the Indian woman had provided and then let them hang to cool, draping them over the skin that hadn't blistered. It seemed to bring her some relief, but not enough to balance out the rest of her injuries. The bursting blisters disgusted her and she requested a stack of rags next to the cot so that she could clean them, growing frusturated when it irritated the burns more.

One afternoon Chris came up the stairs to the clinic with a pitcher of lemonade Mary had instructed him to deliver to Aggie and Nathan. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a scream come from behind the closed door. He took the last few steps two at a time, dropping the jar of lemonade on the railing and pulling his pistol from his holster.

Pushing the door open violently with one hand he burst into the room but only Agatha was there, bloody knife in her hand, tears streaming down her face.

"What the hell are you doing!?" he demanded, putting his gun back into the sling at his waist.

He lunged for the knife but she withheld it defiantly and as he watched, turned it point down and sunk it into one of the large blisters on her bare leg. She cried out again and released the handle. Chris seized it and threw it across the room where it clattered in the corner. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a violent shake. She was trembling and white as a sheet, he worried she was going to pass out.

"Aggie! Aggie, you... fool!" he spat. "What are you thinking?"

She wavered, slumping forward before coming to again and reaching out to grip his arms uncertainly. She looked down at her legs where a handful of blisters were now bloody and released too soon, oozing over angry red skin.

"I can't take it, I'm sorry," she sobbed. "The pain, it hurts so badly I can't stand it any longer."

"You have to," he said adamantly.

"I can't," she moaned, reaching down with a bandaged hand to touch the largest raw spot she had opened on her leg. "Look at it. You don't understand, it hurts to breathe, I can't move, just being here hurts."

She looked up at him with a desperation in her eyes bordering on rage. "He should have left me there. Ezra should have left me there to die, I wish he had! I told him, I wish I had died!"

"I know, I know," Chris said soothingly. "I know it hurts, I can't imagine anything worse than this, Aggie, but you aren't going to give up. You're going to make it through this, I promise."

"How do you know, how can you promise?" she wailed, a coughing fit overtaking her.

"You just calm down," Chris ordered. "I'm going to go get Nathan, he'll fix you up. But don't you dare move or do anything stupid, you understand me?"

She didn't answer but he risked leaving her, running down the steps and up the street to the hotel where he suspected Nathan would be having his lunch.

"You'd better come quick," he said when he saw the healer seated at one of the tables, a half eaten plate of food in front of him.

Scarcely ten minutes later Aggie was deeply unconcious and breathing steady.

"I hate to use this stuff, it's habit formin' and been known to cause real poor reactions in the mind, but it does have its uses. I got it from an old chinese man when we settled that scuffle with the railroad - opium," Nathan explained, using a cloth to gently tidy up the burst blisters. "Like the laudanum but purer, and stronger."

"How long will it keep her out for?"

"Hard to say, hits everybody different. Could be three hours, could be three days."

It was a relief to see her resting and at peace. "Keep doing it," Chris said.

Everywhere Nathan touched with the damp cloth her skin quivered like a horse trying to shake flies. He did the best he could then left her to sleep.

Chris didn't notice until he returned to the hotel that there was dried blood on his hands. He washed vigorously and sat down at the edge of the bed, seeing the ragged blisters on Aggie's skin over and over again in his mind. Sarah had died that way, in the fire. So had Adam. He knew because the house was gone entirley but for the stone fireplace, and the bodies had been charred so badly he'd scarcely had anything left to bury.

Not for the first time he felt utterly useless, which made him hopeless and ultimately fired a deep and vicious rage within him. He flung the rag down and pulled his boots off, winging them one after the other at the door, as hard as he could. Splinters erupted where they collided and damaged the wood, but it wasn't good enough. He took up the bowl and pitcher and smashed it on the floor, then knocked over the chair and kicked it. Without his boots it hurt like hell and he wondered if he hadn't broken a toe.

When his anger was spent, he collapsed on the bed and covered his face in his hands, crying like he hadn't cried in years. Finally there were no tears left and no desire to shed them, so he drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Two chapters in one day! You guys are spoiled. Thought I might as well upload this one since it's ready. Let me know what you think now that you've hung on for 8 chapters.**

CHAPTER EIGHT

At long last, several long months later, Aggie seemed to be on the mend. She rose from the bed and walked back and forth across the porch a few times a day, or sat in the shade and watched the goings on in the street below. Mary walked her down the stairs and over to the bathhouse, where she laid in a tub of cool water for over an hour, but the steep stairs from the clinic had exhausted her, so she had to make due with the washtub Nathan provided.

"There is the issue of what to do with her when she's well," Mary said to the Judge on one of his stops in town.

"No family?" he asked.

"None, all dead."

"Any money? Or means?"

"A small savings account in the bank in Lone Pine, I think. She doesn't know how much was in it, if anything, only that her mother spoke of it."

the Judge looked on with a perplexed look on his face. "I know you're a busy woman, Mary, and you've got Billy to care for. She can't stay with you, is there anyone in town she could stay with?"

"We aren't exactly teeming with respectable women, Judge, you know that. It would do untold damage to her reputation if we housed her with any of the single men. There's the church, I suppose. But still, there's Josiah. He's a man and he's obsessed with that church, hammering away and building at all hours."

Chris came up the boardwalk towards Mary and the Judge, tipped his hat and leaned against wall of the Clarion office.

"Ah, Mr. Larabee, perhaps you can help Mary and I with our problem?"

"Depends on what the problem is, I guess." He struck a match against the rough boards and lit a cigarette.

"Miss Campbell is steadily improving, but once she's well enough to leave the clinic, we have nowhere for her to go."

Chris blew smoke from his nostrils, his face thoughtful. "Nathan did say she'd be ready to leave soon."

"The few families we have around here are barely making a living, we can't ask them to take on anyone else. We couldn't let her live with a bachelor, and single women, myself aside, are few and far between."

"Well," Chris said with a smirk, "there are a few single women around, but I don't think they'd be the best influence on Aggie."

"Chris," Mary admonished. "We don't want Aggie going down that path, it doesn't even bear discussing."

The three remained there, in silence, stuck for any ideas.

JD and Buck were strolling past, shooting the breeze and enjoying a day free of any real trouble.

"Mornin' Judge," Buck said cordially, removing his hat. JD did the same.

Mary greeted them and the Judge repeated his question, hoping they might pose some answers. Buck was just about to set off into a long and affectionate defense of the town's "soiled doves", but JD intervened before he could start.

"Why don't you ask Mrs. Wells and Casey? They're respectable, ain't they?"

Mary's face lit up. "Why didn't I think of Nettie? I'm sure she and Casey would be happy to help out!"

"I'm certain JD would be happy to ride out and ask on your behalf," Buck added, shooting a knowing glance at Chris.

JD, only too happy to comply, did just that. The Judge had another court date to attend to and a stage to catch, so he gave Mary a quick hug and turned to go.  
"Oh, one thing. Maybe someone had better ask the girl what she thinks?" he asked.

Just as the stage went galloping out of town with the Judge aboard, Nathan came out on the porch, waving both arms frantically and shouting. Chris stood up and threw his cigarette into the dusty street.

"Something's wrong," he said immediately, rushing down the boardwalk and across the street.

"Chris, bring Ezra!"

"Ezra?" he stopped dead in his tracks. "Why Ezra?"

"Agatha wants him, she's in a bad way, bring him quick!"

"Buck! Where's Ezra?"

"Still at the hotel," he answered, with a bewildered look on his face. "I think."

Chris pounded up the hotel stairs two at a time and didn't even bother to knock on the gambler's door. There was nothing inside he hadn't seen before, and it was urgent.

Ezra was fast asleep, sprawled across the feather bed, coverlet drawn up to his shoulder blades. His breathing was regular and peaceful, until Chris yanked his blankets back and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into an upright position.

Ezra's hand immediately reached for his gun, which was out of reach, on the other side of Chris.

"Sainted Mary, what in the hell do you mean pulling me up out of my feather bed at this time of day?!" Ezra demanded, pure malicious intent shining in his eyes.

"Never mind the sainted Mary and get some clothes on. It's Aggie, Nathan says she's in a bad way."

Ezra snapped to attention and reached for his boots at the bedside. "Pass me my garments, Mr. Larabee."

He slipped his trousers on right over his boots and threw his hat on before he had even finished buttoning his shirt.

Nathan was inside, leaning over Agatha's bed. A crowd was milling around the base of the stairs, but had been forbidden entrance. Most of them hadn't even met Aggie, but there was a morbid fascination with bad news and disasters, common to all people in all towns.

The black clad gunslinger and the con man with his crisp white shirt parted them like Moses and the Red Sea as they ran up the stairs.

"I came as soon as I could," Ezra said breathlessly, bursting through the door.

Nathan was helping Aggie into a sitting position, a steaming bowl held under her nose. Terrible, strangling coughs wracked her body and Ezra could tell by the look on her face, the color of her skin, that she was starving for air. She put a hand to her mouth and her eyes shut tightly, painfully. When she pulled her hand away, all three men could see the blood left there.

Reaching out with her still bandaged hand, she pushed Nathan away, bowl and all.

"Ezra," she gasped, reaching out to him. "Please!"

He glanced at Nathan and the look the healer gave him told him he should comply and try to calm the situation as best he could.

"Agatha, calm down. Whatever could have you in such a state?"

He sat down at the edge of her bed and gripped both of her shoulders.

"I'm dying, Ezra," she said, and the look in her eyes was pure fear.

"Nonsense, you're doing no such thing," he said, with much more assurance than he felt. Just then a dribble of blood escaped the side of her mouth and ran down her chin. He withdrew the snow white handkerchief from his pocket and caught the stream just before it fell to the bed.

"My lungs are on fire," she gagged.

"The medicine woman said this might happen," Nathan said to Chris, who still stood by the door, watching with a tense expression on his face. "Something about the burning and sores in the throat and lungs."

"Could it kill her?" Chris asked, voice barely audible.

Nathan nodded.

"I'll see if I can find Josiah," Chris said. "He might be a comfort, if..."

He didn't finish his sentence, he didn't have to.

"What can I do?" Ezra asked, folding over the bloody side of his handkerchief and preparing to use it again.

"Promise me something," Aggie said.

"Anything, darling, just name it."

"If I die-"

"You're not going to die," Ezra said more forcefully.

Aggie became frantic, she grabbed Ezra's neatly starched collar and pulled so hard his head nearly collided with hers.

"If I die, I want you to bury me with Mam and William. Promise me you'll bury me next to my William," she pleaded.

Ezra gently released Aggie's hands from his shirt collar and took on a soothing tone of voice.

"Sweet girl, of course I'll lay you to rest at home if that's what you want, but please try and breathe. The last thing on earth I want to do is bury you."

Aggie nodded, hands over her mouth, chest heaving.

Nathan came up behind her with a cloth in his hand. "Hold her," he mouthed to Ezra.

Without betraying Nathan's intent, Ezra took Aggie's hands away from her mouth and held them firmly in his own. Nathan pressed the cloth to Aggie's nose and mouth and, although she struggled briefly, soon she became still and her breathing evened out ever so slightly.

"I didn't know what else to do," Nathan explained. "I figured maybe if she calmed down some she might be able to breathe better."

"Is she going to die, Mr. Jackson?" Ezra asked

"I don't know, Ezra. Maybe. It's hard to tell right now."

Ezra smoothed Aggie's shortened red hair with his soft gambler's hand. He was tempted to touch the angry, burned flesh exposed on her collarbone but dissuaded himself. His touch would be anything but soothing, as much as he wanted to help.

They heard footsteps on the stairs outside, then approaching the door. Chris opened the door and entered with Josiah in tow.

"Josiah can stay," Nathan said. "But you two go. This isn't a Sunday meeting, we don't need to fill the room."

"Come on, Ezra. Let's go," Chris said, in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

"Mr. Jackson, if this girl needs anything, you see to it that she gets it. No matter what the cost, no matter what it takes. I will foot the bill if it becomes necessary. I don't pretend to be a Good Samartian, but I am afraid my heart won't stand a return journey to that scene of devestation. Certainly not with her lifeless body. I have buried enough of the Campbell family as I care to."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It's been a while since I've uploaded a new chapter. But it's Canadian Thanksgiving so I get a bit of a break and have a chance to give you all chapter nine. Please Review!**

CHAPTER NINE

Mary emerged from the telegraph office with a slip of paper clutched tightly in her hand.

It had been a little over two months since Aggie had nearly perished from the infection that had plagued her and nearly cost her her life. Not only had she battled the flames that had tried to consume her, she had overcome the second attack that followed and was gaining strength everyday. Out of concern for her future she had asked Mary to wire the bank in Lone Pine and inquire about the account her mother had kept there. She wanted, at the very least, to compensate Nathan for the months she had spent in his care, even though he insisted it wasn't necessary; it was a healer's job to administer to the sick, he told her.

Recently she had taken over the shanty addition at the back of Nettie's cabin, at the kindly old woman's suggestion, and wanted to pay her back as well. She knew she wasn't much help. She tired easily and wheezed a great deal. Frequently her skin burned and any time spent in the sun without a layer of fabric, which also irritated her skin, was simply not feasible. She was working hard to improve, but there was only so much she could do; she had to let the process happen naturally.

"Patience, patience, patience," everyone preached.

Ezra had ridden out on his fine, pretty horse just yesterday, offering her a sweet apple, and handing her two more for Nettie and Casey as well.

"Be patient, my dear," he had repeated. "You are lucky to be alive, and don't you forget it."

He leaned down from Chaucer and took her chin in his hand, flashing her that charming smile with his signature gold tooth on display. "And don't forget that I am pleased you are."

Not for the first time Agatha felt a flutter in her chest when he spoke to her so kindly, and so sincerely. She told herself her feelings for him were only this strong because he had saved her life, and he had taken such pains to help her with her beloved mother and brother. Not only that, he had brought her back here, to ensure her safety and to see she was looked after by friends, by trustworthy people. He knew she had nothing and no one to return to, and not once had he suggested it; as far as he was concerned, she had found her new home.

Although she rarely entered the saloon, not liking what it promoted in her town, she knew that was the best place to find Ezra. With Chris, Vin and Buck away helping some farmers being bullied by a land baron who wanted their property, and JD out practicing his shooting, he was her best bet for an escort to the Wells place.

"Mr. Standish," she inquired, side stepping the tables of card players and drinking men.

"Mrs. Travis, what brings you to this fine establishment?" Ezra asked, happily raking in a pile of cash from the center of the card table. Mary was no expert but she could tell by the looks of his opponents that they were none to happy to have been bested by the conman, and that perhaps it wasn't the first time.

"I just receieved a telegraph from Lone Pine and I wondered if you would mind escorting me out to Nettie and Casey's?"

"Well, it's certainly a lovely day to take in some air," he replied. "I'll go, providing the news we have to deliever is good news."

Mary looked once again at the telegram in her hand, taking the time while she stood at the table to smooth it out and fold it properly. "It's a reply from the bank in Lone Pine."

Ezra's eyebrows raised in interest. "Do we have a millionaire in our midst, Mrs. Travis?"

Mary laughed. "Hardly, but we do have a woman of some small means, at the very least."

"It's settled then," Ezra said, gatthering the cards on the table and aligning them all with a quick snap against the felted table top. "We shall leave immediately."

"Leave immediately?" One of the gamblers protested. "With all of my money?"

"Sir, I fear you may not be acquainted with the rules of this particular game of chance. You see, once you have bet on a hand and lost, it is no longer _your_ money, but _my_ money. Thus, I am leaving with _my_ money."

"I ain't got nothing left!" the man said, bewildered.

"Lady Luck is a fickle mistress," Ezra replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

As he placed his hat on his head he strategically drew aside one half of his jacket and tucked it behind the gun protruding from its holster. Generally, this had the effect of calming any hasty throwdowns or threats of physical violence, all of which the con man abhorred.

As the two walked down the boardwalk towards the stable, Mary looked at Ezra very matter of factly.

"You're going to get yourself in a lot of trouble one of these days, Mr. Standish, if you keep cheating at cards."

Ezra placed his hand over his heart and feigned shock. "My good woman, you honestly think I'm a cheat?"

"You're not?" she replied sharply, eyes narrowed.

They had reached the livery and Ezra gave the door a tug, watching it glide open on its well maintained hinges.

"I don't deny I've had occasion to stack the deck perhaps once or twice, but this was not one of them."

He handed Mary a rope shank from a nail on the wall and proceeded on to Chaucer's stall. "They were all, quite simply, terribly bad card players."

Not entirely sure if he was telling the truth or not, Mary tucked the paper she held into her apron pocket and advanced into the dank coolness of the barn.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here's another chapter for you all. Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming and I will keep uploading chapters!**

CHAPTER TEN

"Why don't you just ask him?" Casey asked, confused.

"Ask who, what?" Aggie replied, leaning on her hoe, panting, skin taut under the weak sun even in her loose cotton dress.

"Why don't you just ask Ezra if he likes you, silly!" Casey answered, hacking at weeds with a vicious accuracy and tireless speed.

Aggie was taken aback. They had hardly spoken the entire time they'd worked, instead sharing a companionable silence. She hadn't mentioned anyone, let alone Ezra. Casey stopped, although she didn't need the rest, and looked at Aggie. How strangely perceptive this girl was, despite her naivety and youth and reputation as a barefoot ruffian.

"Why would I do something like that?" Aggie asked, curious what the reply would be.

"Well, you like him, don't you?"

"Of course I like him. I like Mary and you and Nettie, too. Nathan saved my life, I guess I'd like him best of all, wouldn't I?"

"Yes, well no. You know what I mean. You _like_ him."

Aggie turned back to the garden row that seemed to stretch on before her for eternity. All of a sudden a fine sweat broke out under the headband of the wide brimmed hat that protected her face and neck from the sun.

"You have funny ideas," she said.

Casey resepected Aggie; admired her even. She'd survived a fire, the loss of first her father and then her mother and brother, she rarely complained about the pain she felt unless they were alone, and even then quietly. And JD always took his hat off to her and called her Miss Aggie, which was enough to make Casey like just about anybody she was so infatuated with the young man.

Because she respected her, she didn't lay in with a good bout of teasing the way she would have with anyone else. Instead she got back to work, but her brow was furrowed and Aggie could tell after a few sideways glances that the conversation wasn't truly over.

Casey was confused, she didn't think Aggie would put up a wall between them. She considered herself Aggie's closest friend in Four Corners, despite being several years her junior. She didn't expect her to deny her feelings either; could it be she was wrong? Or could it be that Aggie didn't realize the feelings herself?

"It's not plain, in case you're wondering," she said quietly.

"What isn't plain?" Aggie asked, feeling all of a sudden that Casey was speaking in riddles, or else only half of the conversation was taking place outside of her head.

"Your feelings. They aren't plain to see, I can just tell 'cause of how long I waited on JD. I don't think anybody else would know if they didn't spend all this time with you, the way I do."

Aggie shook her head and kept hoeing. She was tired but she knew she would never get her strength back if she didn't keep working. Besides, she didn't want to have this conversation with Casey, as much as she cared for and trusted the girl.

To begin with, Ezra was nearly ten years her senior, and he most certainly did not strike her as a one woman man or the type who would settle down. Not only that, he was handsome and had a gentleman's manners, if anyone could claim him it would be that fiery barmaid Inez Rocillos, bubbling over with passion and beauty. It wouldn't be the dreadfully scarred farm girl he'd rescued from death. He would no doubt find any advances she made pitiful and misled, like a schoolchild with a fascination for her teacher.

Just as she was brewing over these thoughts in her mind, Nettie came out on the back porch and called out. "Girls! Come in for some lunch, Ezra and Mary have come to call."

Casey looked at Aggie and took the gardening implement from her friend's hand. "I'm starved, anyway," she said lightheartedly, leaping over the rows of sprouts and laying down their tools at the edge of the garden patch. Aggie stepped more gingerly over the plants, lifting her light skirt so as not to step on it.

Aggie expected Casey to go bounding ahead of her towards the house, as much excess energy as a pup, but instead she hung back and matched Aggie's strides.

"Wonder if Mary heard back from the bank," she said, tucking her brown hair behind her ears, preparing to remove her hat.

"Maybe," Aggie replied, running her own hands over her dark red hair to calm it. She had gained an inch or so of growth, so that it was down past her shoulders once again.

Ezra had removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, prepared for some of Nettie's excellent cooking to be served up. Mary drank water from a tin cup and ran a finger under her collar to loosen it from her skin ever so slightly.

"Aggie, it's good to see you," Mary said with a smile, extending her hand. Aggie took it in both of her own and allowed herself to be pulled closer for a light embrace. Aggie was reminded briefly in a flash of memory of her own mother holding her, and her heart flipped over painfully in her chest.

"How are you feeling, Miss Campbell?" Ezra asked, leaning back as Nettie set a plate of stew and cornbread down before him.

"Yes, how are you?" Mary echoed.

"Much better, almost as good as new, thank you."

Casey looked like she was about to say something, but Aggie silenced her with a look. Casey knew how difficult it was for her to get out of bed in the morning, how winded she got when she tried to work, and how she sometimes coughed deep into the night, until she thought she might die from it. But she didn't need Casey divulging any of that to anyone. She knew Nettie wouldn't contradict her, not in front of Ezra and Mary.

"Mrs. Travis has some news for you," Nettie said. The look on her face didn't suggest it was bad news,

Aggie looked expectantly at Mary.

"The bank in Lone Pine wired me back, it seems your Mother's savings account has around three hundred dollars."

There was silence around the room, except for Ezra's spoon dropping unexpectedly onto his plate.

"Three hundred dollars?" Both he and Aggie exclaimed at once.

"It can't be," Aggie protested, shocked. "Where would she have gotten that kind of money?"

Mary passed the paper from her pocket over to the girl, who reached out and took it. Mary noticed that the angry red shade of her burns was fading, but the scars would be there for a lifetime.

There seemed to be no mistake, unless the telegraph operator had erroneously added an extra zero at the end of the figure. For the life of her, Aggie couldn't imagine where her Mother had come across such a sum of money, and for what purpose she was saving it for. They certainly could have used it; only last winter William had nearly lost three toes to frostbite because his boots were so worn down his sock was exposed at the end. Not to mention potatoes, cornbread and beans had been standard fare for months on end.

"Is it... is it mine?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course it is, unless you can think of any other surviving relative who may have a better claim to it. I'm not sure there is a descendant or relative that usurps a blood child," Ezra answered.

"Well, can I have it then? I mean, how do I get it?"

Ezra was about to speak again, offering his services to ride over to Lone Pine and collect it for her, but Nettie interrupted.

"There's plenty of time to worry about that. Your money's no good around here anyhow, come sit down and eat."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the delay between chapters, I'll try and upload another one soon. If you like this one, that is ;)**

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Three hundred dollars?" JD said incredulously. "That's near a year's wages!"

Casey had told him of Aggie's inheritance and he was confirming it now with Ezra, who sat across the table from him, idly shuffling a deck of cards. Chris and Buck sat one on each side of him, faces thoughtful.

"The kid's right, that's not too bad."

"Indeed, it is a tidy little sum," Ezra agreed. "I have every intention of offering my services to retrieve it for her from Lone Pine myself."

"You?" Chris snorted.

"Why not I?" Ezra retorted.

"You've said yourself, you're no Good Samaritan. You're going to go out of your way for the girl? Tell me you'd be doin' the same if it was ten dollars instead."

"Are you suggesting I have ulterior motives?" Ezra's voice hinted at anger.

"Damn right I am. I wouldn't let you within fifty feet of that money," Chris said hotly. "You as much as told me not to when you asked me not to 'burden you with other people's money' if I recall correctly. Might have saved your life that day but it don't mean you weren't stealing it. You aren't trustworthy."

The tension between the two men snapped like a taut wire, and Ezra's face took on a reddish hue; his voice turned deadly.

"You truly believe I would steal from an orphaned woman who has cheated death, not once, but twice?" He stood up and pushed his chair back violently. "I may be a scoundrel and perhaps, at times, I have been untrue, but to know you think so little of me is very revealing, indeed. Goodnight, gentlemen. And I use the term loosely."

With that he turned and went upstairs to the second floor. Only a few seconds later they heard the door of his room slam shut.

"You were a bit hard on him, weren't you Chris?" Buck asked. JD looked like he wanted to say the same thing but was too scared to pipe up.

"Hard on him? You know the man. He'd rob a church collection plate if he thought he could get away with it. Hell, maybe even if he couldn't get away with it."

"What's this about robbing the collection plate?" A voice asked behind them. Josiah pulled up a chair and sank his large frame down onto it, waving at Inez behind the bar who began to fill a mug with beer.

Buck explained the altercation between Chris and Ezra and what it had been about. Vin came in in time to hear the tail end of it and Inez, who was carrying over Josiah's beer, made a swift turn and filled up a second mug before delivering them both.

"That was Ezra when we met him, sure," he said. "But the man's changed. We've all changed, Chris."

"It's none of my business," Inez began.

"That ain't never stopped a lady before," Buck joked under his breath to JD. Inez shot him a fiery glare.

"It's none of my business what you do or what you say, but Mr. Standish is a good man. Beneath all of his card sharking and brazen attitude is a true Southern gentleman. Trust me, I know."

"And just how do you know, Inez?" Buck persisted, waggling his eyebrows.

Inez threw her arms up in the air in a gesture of defeat, turned on her heel and stalked away. " _Hombres_ ," she said in an exasperated voice. "You can't tell them anything."

"Josiah's gotta be the most trustworthy of any of us. He's a preacher, ain't he?" JD asked.

"I'll go happily if it's what the child wants," Josiah answered.

"She's hardly a child," Vin commented.

"She's a child of God."

"What I mean is, why don't you ask _her_ what _she_ wants. Lord, all this fussin' and fightin' and ain't nobody even bothered to talk to her. For all you know she's already got a mail wagon or some such bringin' it over and it'll be safe in her apron pocket this time tomorrow," Vin said, draining his beer.

He stood up and pushed his chair calmly back under the table. People confused him, and more than that they sure could give him a headache. It was time to retire to his wagon for the night.

" _I'm_ going out to see her in the morning and _I'm_ going over to Lone Pine," Chris said with an air of finality.

"We only just got back, the dust ain't even settled on my britches yet," Buck whined.

"I didn't say anything about you, did I Buck?" Chris replied. He finished his beer as well and left the saloon, spurs jangling down the boardwalk outside.

"Morning, Nettie," Chris said, tipping his hat. "Is Aggie about?"

"Sure, Mr. Larabee. The girls are over in the barn, throwing down hay. You'll know 'em by all the giggling and girl talk."

Chris didn't bother to dismount, just touched the brim of his hat again and turned his horse in the direction of the barn. Nettie eyed him good naturedly. "You come courtin', Chris?"

His heart nearly leaped up into his throat. What was it in a woman that always had to look for meaning beyond any meaning that was there? They were always trying to figure something out about you.

"No ma'am, only come to offer some help," he answered, a little color rising under his collar nonetheless.

Nettie nodded and went back inside. _An old woman's learned many things, and one of them is patience_ , she thought to herself. _Time will tell._

Sure enough, Chris could hear Casey chattering away before he reached the barn door. Stepping down off of his horse he left him groundtied and walked out of the light into the darkness of the barn. It took his eyes a minute to adjust and neither Aggie nor Casey noticed him at first.

He couldn't hear exactly what Casey had said, but whatever it was set off a beautiful, lilting laughter above his head. At first he was confused, then he realized it was Aggie; he only hadn't recognized it because he'd never heard her laugh before. He thought how much he'd like to make her laugh again, how it would be enough to see her smile - maybe everyday if he was lucky, and a good enough man.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts. That was the problem, wasn't it? He never had been a good enough man, not ever.

"Morning girls," he said cordially.

Casey started, then grinned broadly at him. "Morning, Chris," she said. "Is JD with you?"

"Sorry, he's on patrol back in town."

A shower of hay fell down on his black hat and his black clad shoulders. He looked up in time to see Aggie hanging half over the edge of the hay loft, smiling at him. He could see the scarred skin around her collarbone, but it didn't matter. All that drew his attention was that wide smile and the two rows of small, white teeth.

"Aren't you two happy as crows," he said, smiling back, despite himself.

"It's a fine Irish morning," Agatha replied, green eyes like Ezra's watching him.

He looked away while he still could. "Ain't never been to Ireland," he said, curiosity in his voice.

"Me neither," Aggie said, crawling over the ladder and stepping carefully on the rungs. "I'm from Scotland."

Casey stood looking between Chris and Aggie, wondering who would be the next to say something, but the silence stretched on. Oddly enough, it didn't seem uncomfortable, it was almost as if everything that ever needed to be said had been, and so why say anything more.

"What brings you out, Chris?" Casey asked, once it became clear that she would have to start the conversation again.

"I've come to make you an offer," Chris said, looking at Agatha.

"What would that be, Mr. Larabee?"

"I hear you've got a considerable sum waiting on you in the bank in Lone Pine. I'm offering to go and get it for you. It ain't something you want to trust to just anyone."

"No, I suppose you're right," she replied, picking hay from her hair and dress.

"I can leave today."

" _You_ can leave?"

"Sure, for Lone Pine," Chris felt confused by the change in her tone.

"You're not going without me," Aggie said. "I'd be happy if you'd escort me there and back, but I want to come along, too."

Chris paused, considering. He'd never thought she'd want to come along.

"It's a fair ways, you'll get tired."

"I know I will, but it has to be done."

"I can go, I don't mind. You don't want to get sick."

"I'm as good as useless in this country if I can't go a couple days ride there and back. I'll never be strong again if all I do is wait around to die. You might as well ship me back East where I could embroider and hold quilting circles and read the Bible until consumption or some other foul end comes for me."

Chris was taken aback by the passion in her statement. He could read the frustration on her face and he knew that she felt like an invalid. She wanted to take charge and prove to the world nothing was going to hold her down or claim her. He could even see that familiar anger in her he'd carried himself, anger at a situation you had no control over. It was a worrisome thing.

"When can you leave?"

"Right away as long as Nettie doesn't need me."

"I'll go and ask," Casey offered, eager to be away from the sudden tension that had brewed up around her friend.

Nettie packed them a good lunch and a few days dry rations, "just in case", and the two set off before the sun reached full force in the sky. Aggie wore her wide brimmed hat and a pair of britches so that she could ride astraddle and not have any skin on her legs exposed.

"Keep your strength up," Nettie warned, passing up a canteen of water. "I put a little mint in it. Just how you like it."

"Nettie, you're too kind," Aggie thanked her, laying her hand over the older woman's and basking in the affection she felt there.

"Pshaw," Nettie blew air through her lips dismissively, and just to prove she wasn't too sentimental she gave Aggie's horse a good slap on the rump, sending him leaping forward.

There it was again, that laugh Chris had fallen in love with less than an hour before. His horse pranced along beside the gelding, picking up on his high emotion.

"You ready?"

Aggie readjusted her hat and tied the canteen tight around the saddle horn. "I believe I am."

"Let's go then."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Here's another chapter for you all! Things are going to get good in Chapter Thirteen or Fourteen. As always, please let me know what you think and if you're enjoying the story!**

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chris could have ridden faster by himself but he found he didn't mind the delay. The weather was pleasant and he hadn't had the pleasure of a woman's company in a long time; not to mention he was, like Buck, tired from their most recent job. Although he would never have admitted it he allowed himself to fall into a near doze, hat suspended around his neck, basking in the sun.

They came to a clear stream with water suitable for drinking and Aggie asked if they might stop and rest for a bit. When Chris agreed she refilled her canteen, leaving the crushed mint leaves in the bottom. Chris knelt next to her and refilled his own, watching her steady hands put the cap back on and double checking the leather strap for wear and tear.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Fine," she answered.

"Can't be easy, coming back this way," he persisted. He remembered the first time he'd had occasion to pass by the burnt out remains of his cabin, the home he'd shared with Sarah and Adam. The ruins of the life he had wanted so desperately, of the family he had wanted to share it with. It tore him apart so badly inside that he'd gone on a ten day drinking binge in Purgatory - that didn't involve only drinking.

Aggie stood abruptly and returned to Gilroy, her horse. Chris knew he had upset her but not what to do about it, so he remained silent as they rode on through the afternoon. They would reach Lone Pine by nightfall with the easy but steady pace they had set. Sometimes, when Chris looked over at her, Aggie was looking this way and that. Sometimes up, sometimes down, but rarely did she look straight ahead.

"You lookin' for something?" he asked at length.

She looked straight ahead, embarassed. "I'm sorry, I just don't recognize anything. I thought maybe I'd remember something but... it all seems so long ago." She looked at him, her voice plaintive. "It's like another me living in another lifetime was here, not me."

He knew exactly what she meant, he couldn't have said it any better himself. He considered his life in only three stages: Before Sarah, with Sarah, and after Sarah. He was so changed that it was as if a line had been drawn down the center of his years, dividing him into incomplete parts. He had to think and concentrate very hard to remember the man he had been before Sarah, but remembering the man he had been with Sarah was nearly impossible. Occasionally, an unfamiliar action startled him with a strange deja vu, throwing him back to a time when it _had_ been familiar to him.

"It was a different you," he answered. "On the inside, anyway."

Aggie pulled up her sleeve and scratched at the taut skin on her shoulder. "On the outside, too," she said, more to herself than to him.

"You'll think about them a lot," Chris said, watching her face register her words.

"I think about them everyday. Does it ever end?"

Chris shook his head. "I'd like to tell you it does, but no."

Aggie remembered that first night she'd met him, when he had sat up with her and talked to her throughout the night. She owed him, not only for his kindness but his implicit understanding. She had lived his grief and so was more prepared for her own. Maybe she would have come entirely unhinged, it not for his and Ezra's support.

After another hour or so, Chris tried again to start a conversation. He was content to step along beside her in silence, but to hear her voice - maybe her laugh again - would be a blessing.

"Tell me about yourself, Aggie," he said.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"Anything. Everything."

"Well, I was born in Falkirk, in Scotland. September, 1844. The 19th I think."

She paused and lifted her hand, counting her fingers one by one. "That makes me 23, right?"

Chris also tallied the years between 1844 and 1867. "Yes, 23."

"We sailed for America in 1848. I don't remember much about Scotland, except that it was very green, and very wet and we were very poor. Mam and Da were so excited to leave, they'd saved for a long time."

"Scotland wasn't much good to them?" Chris questioned.

"No, it was a hard place, I think. Mam had eloped with Da without her father's approval and he refused to help them, or to have anything to do with us eventually. When cholera came to Scotland for the second time, no one in the village was spared. I had a sister Kathleen, and two brothers, Hamish and Owen. They all died within a few days of each other, leaving just me. William wasn't born until much later, after we'd arrived in America.

"I'm sorry, Aggie," Chris said, clearing his throat.

"I don't really remember," she said. "Mostly I remember how sad everything was, how dark our lives were for those first few years I was alive. But then we arrived in America and everything seemed possible again. It was sometime in 1849 and although we'd heard a lot of us "dirty redheads" were being held at the ports we didn't have any trouble. Have you ever been to New York?" she asked.

"No," Chris replied. "Never have."

"Mam said it was the busiest place she'd ever seen. People crawled all over like ants, she was scared to let me go."

"How did you get all the way out here?" Chris questioned, picturing the distance between East and West in his mind.

"We walked for weeks, dragging everything on a makeshift carrier that looked like a sleigh, until we came to someplace along a river where Da bought a mule and a cart. I really don't know how long it took or when we got here. Most of the time I remember was on the farm, when we'd already been there for a few years."

"What happened to your Pa?"

"He said he was going to go west and find gold. That was the last we heard of him. He's probably dead, but I sometimes like to think of him hunched over a stream somewhere, panning the dirt. Planning on coming back someday. It's foolish, isn't it?" she gave a bitter little laugh. "What would he come home too, now?"

"It's not foolish, wanting back someone you love."

"Foolish is wanting what you can't have, I think," Aggie countered, a thoughtful look on her face.

 _We all want something we can't have,_ Chris thought, watching her.

"Who's to say you can't have it?" he mused aloud.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I hope this cheers up your Monday/week. I will get Chapter Fourteen uploaded ASAP**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ezra had become sullen and was cantankerous to deal with since his heated exchange with Chris. He became more so the morning Chris rode out to Nettie's to escort Aggie to Lone Pine. The fact that he was out of bed and on the hotel balcony as the black clad man rode by beneath him was testimony to his agitated state of mind. He should have been asleep for at least another three ungodly hours of early day before pulling himself up out of his feather bed.

When three drunken men began to brawl and cause trouble on the main street that night, Ezra slapped cuffs on them, knocked their heads together and threw them, cursing and protesting, into the same jail cell in a heap. Normally one to avoid physical or verbal altercation at all costs, he surprised JD by dragging in his charges single handedly.

Dropping his feet off the desk and jumping up, JD adjusted his hat and looked the sorry bunch over. "Geez, Ezra, what'd they do? Tear down the saloon?"

"Drunk and disorderly," Ezra replied through grit teeth. "I simply have no patience for men who cannot handle their liquor. Let this be a lesson to you," he added, slamming the cell door shut with a clang.

"You'll be sorry, Fancy Man," one of the prisoners said, angrily. "You don't know who we are, but you will."

"Oh my, spare me, please," Ezra said in mock fear.

"Who's spelling you off tonight?" JD asked, looking at the clock. "You ought to be off to bed soon."

"Mr. Jackson is taking over my rounds, provided there are no mortally wounded people in his care," Ezra replied. "I'll be over there shortly to check."

"Well. Try not to bust too many more heads," JD said uncertainly, looking at his friend suspiciously. "Remember I gotta sit with 'em all night."

"One shouldn't volunteer for duty if the duty proves too much," Ezra said, eyes narrowed.

"It's not the duty that's too much," JD said, offended by Ezra's tone of voice. He gestured at the three men in the cell and another heavyset man who lay snoring on the bunk in the second cell. He was a regular, not unused to spending nights in JD's company. "But heck, they stink," he finished.

Aggie didn't know the banker in Lone Pine; she had been in with her Mother only once when she had withdrawn a few dollars for another bag of oats for seed and had fallen short with petty cash. It was an unexpected expense, grasshoppers had destroyed their first crop when it was newly sprouted. Without it, they would have to purchase feed for the animals and that wasn't feasible.

Or, at least, Aggie didn't think it had been at the time.

"You are Miss Campbell, I presume?" the banker asked.

Although Lone Pine was almost the very definition of a "one horse town", with fewer human residents than chickens pecking around the streets, he was smartly dressed and had the airs and manners of a man who might have been manager of a grand establishment in St. Louis or Philadelphia.

"Yes, Agatha Campbell," she confirmed.

"I am Mr. Cody," he said, extending his hand. "Dreadful what happened to your Mother and brother. Simply dreadful, I'm very sorry for your loss."

Aggie nodded, curtly shaking his hand. He sounded sincere.

"And this is...?" he glanced at Chris. "Your?"

"Escort," Chris replied, tucking his duster behind the holster on his hip, exposing his pistol.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Cody said, clearing his throat. "Certainly a good idea for a young woman out here."

He led them past the single teller and into his office where there stood a safe. It wasn't very big, perhaps seven feet tall and five feet wide. And still, knowing that the residents of Lone Pine were mostly roadhouse keepers and farmers, Aggie doubted it was even half full.

Expertly turning the combination lock they all heard a small _click_ and then the door swung soundlessly open on well oiled hinges. Producing a white linen bag, he sat at his desk and removed a single stack of crisp bills. Aggie didn't seem particularly interested in the money itself, she took the stack in her hand and gazed at it, seemingly testing its weight. After a moment she seemed satisfied and retrieved a pocketbook that was tied securely to her waist. Slipping the bills inside, she returned it to its place.

"Where did the money come from? Can you tell me?" she asked Mr. Cody.

"Oh, I would have thought you'd know," Mr. Cody said, leaning back in his chair.

"I didn't know it existed," Aggie replied.

Mr. Cody leaned forward again and began going through the bottom drawer of his desk. After a moment he set a thin stack of papers on the table and began to flip through them. "Campbell, correct? With a 'P'?"

"Yes."

"It would appear the money was wired from Scotland. From the account of Raibert Macbay. Do you know him?"

Aggie could suddenly feel the weight of the money on her hip and knew then why her Mother had not touched it.

"My Grandfather," she answered. "My mother's father."

"Well, that's a lovely gift for his beloved family," Mr. Cody said, clapping the papers neatly on the top of his desk to realign them.

"I shan't keep it," she said, turning to Chris.

"What?" Both he and the banker exclaimed at once.

"I shan't keep it. Mam never touched it, and neither will I."

"Give us a second," Chris ordered Mr. Cody. The gunslinger's tone brooked no argument and Mr. Cody offered none. He shuffled from the room and closed the door tightly beind him.

"Aggie, it's your money. It don't matter where it came from."

"It isn't mine, it's his. He all but drove my family away from home. He wants to buy forgiveness, why should I let him?"

"Look," Chris said, sitting down in the chair next to her and pulling it up close to where she sat. From here, she could see the stubble on his face, the creases at the corners of his intense blue eyes. Not even that first terrible night had he been this close. She had the urge to lay her hand on his, to hear the story of the burden in the eyes she couldn't look away from. Her tongue felt suddenly swollen and she was confused.

 _You harlot,_ she thought. _Any man looks at you and you're in love._

"It doesn't matter why he sent it, he doesn't know it sat here all this time, untouched. He never sent anymore and I don't think your Mam ever got in touch with him, so he knows his chance at forgiveness is past. But that money buys you freedom, Aggie, and independence. I don't want to see you shackled to some piss poor excuse for a man becuase you've got no other choice, pardon my language. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He looked at her imploringly.

Aggie looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, and again felt the weight of the money against her. She knew there was truth in what Chris was saying; she couldn't really afford to turn the money down, and who would get it if she did?

"I'll keep it," she said at length, her voice still uncertain. "But there's one thing I want to do."

Chris stood up, relieved. "Sure, name it."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I've got a few chapters typed up but has been really glitchy for me lately and not letting me upload anything. It took a week trying off and on to get Chapter Thirteen uploaded, so hopefully that's solved but if not, it may take some time to get the other chapters up. Anyway, hope you enjoy. A few sparks will fly in this chapter ;)**

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

There was only one person in town Aggie knew and trusted. Ben Washington, a mulatto who had often come out to the farm to help with whatver two women couldn't do on their own. He had been very fond of Aggie's mother, but at such a time a relationship between the two of them would have been scandalous, if not dangerous. In theory, black men were free and as good as any other, but the ideas of small minded people didn't always match up with the times.

They had admired one another from afar, not even daring to eat inside with one another, but out in the field while Aggie was present, each balancing a tin plate on their hand and using a spoon in between jokes and speaking to clear them.

"You have a problem with men of color?" Aggie asked, her voice had a hard edge. She hadn't seen him around Nathan enough to know if he was unaffected or merely tolerant.

"Never have," Chris answered truthfully. "Even if I did, Nathan's saved my life enough times I couldn't come up with a reason to dislike a man based on the color of his skin at first glance."

"Good," Aggied said, and smiled. "You'll like Ben."

They came upon a little shack at the edge of a creek, a few chickens looked at them curiously and clucked around the horses before continuing their search for food. A hog was contained in a wattle fence not far from the creek, wallowing in mud and grunting in contentment.

At the sound of horse's hooves, Ben sunk his axe into the chopping block and wiped the sweat from his forehead. A rifle leaned against the woodshed and he took it up before coming around the corner to greet whoever might be at his doorstep. Mr. Lincoln may have freed the slaves but there was stil a lot of animosity and it didn't pay to be too careful.

"Agatha!" he boomed, a huge grin breaking out on his face when he saw who sat there astride a horse.

"Ben," she said warmly, dismounting and coming over to embrace him.

"Agatha, I was so sorry to hear what happened over at the farm. You know I would have helped you, where did you go?"

"Well," she said, undoing the top button of her blouse and exposing just a little bit of her collarbone, on the right hand side where the burns were the worst. "I nearly didn't make it out myself."

Chris watched as Ben's hands slowly came up to his mouth and the look on his face suggested he might be about to cry.

"This is my friend, Chris," she said, doing her button up again and gesturing to where Larabee sat, still on his horse. "It was a friend of his who just happened to be riding by, thank the Lord, or else I wouldn't be standing here in front of you today. He came with me to help tidy up a few things."

Ben came over to Chris, both hands extended. Chris put out his own to be shook and Ben took it in one of his large mitts, engulfing it, bringing the other up to hold it as well.

"Thank you, and my heartfelt thanks to your friend, too," he said, pumping Chris' hand up and down.

Chris touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and smiled, appreciating the man's easygoing nature and his obvious affection for Aggie.

"It's had its own rewards."

"Ben, I've come to ask you a favour," Aggie interrupted.

"Sure, anything you need you just tell me and I'll do it," Ben answered solemnly.

"If you go out to the farm, you'll see where I've laid Mam and William to rest. I've ordered two stone markers for their graves, they'll be in town, at Eli's store, no more than two months from today. I'm asking that you go and set them over their final resting place, and that you send me a telegram when it's done. Will you do that, Ben?"

She brought a few bills from her pocket that she'd had changed at the bank. "I'll pay you."

"I'd be honoured," he said, and his tone told her he meant it. Clasping her small hand in his own large one he folded her fingers around the money and pushed her whole hand back towards her chest. "I won't take no money, neither."

"You're a good man, Ben." Her eyes welled with tears and she leaned in for a final embrace, sobbing openly against the man's chest. "I can't come back here any more, come see me, will you? Four Corners, just ask for any of the Magnificent Seven."

Chris was surprised she used the notorious nickname the small group of lawmen had earned for themselves, he didn't know she'd heard it.

"I will," Ben promised, rubbing her back gently with his hand.

Tears were still rolling down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin as she got back on Gilroy and turned his head back the way they had came. Chris waved a final goodbye and trotted his horse to catch up with her quick pace.

"I'm sure he'll do it proper," Chris said ,after they had been riding in silence for hours.

Aggie knew what he meant, immediately. "He will," she agreed.

They rode on in silence a while longer, then she burst out: "God damn it, it's hard, Chris!"

Even the horses were startled by the sudden outpouring of emotion and Chris' threw his head up and stepped sideways beneath him. He'd never heard her swear before, but he didn't scold or feign distaste.

"Why can't I do it? I'm such a coward, if I go back there again..." she trailed off, wiping at her tears in frustration.

"You're no coward," he said, his tone adamant.

She made an effort to contradict him, but his tone grew more stony and he silenced her.

"When my wife and son died, all I felt was hatred. Hatred and anger, for years I carried around that black weight inside of me. I never even took the time to grieve properly, I was so wound up with all this fiery hot pain inside of me that I didn't know how else to be. When that faded some all I felt was dead inside. I don't know what happened, it was like a water chute when you slip the gate in, and suddenly it all runs out and there's nothing. That feeling of nothing has stayed with me ever since, and the emptiness is sometimes so much worse than the anger I want to take my pistol in my hand and blow away what's left of my life. You're feeling, Agatha. Good or bad, it's the feeling that makes life what it is, and I hope you _keep_ feeling, no matter what happens. Let yourself be sad, or angry, or frusturated or whatever the hell it is you need to be."

He dismounted then, drained. A flat rock protuded from the ground and had been pleasantly warmed by the sun. He sat down on it and took his hat in his hand, fiddling with the brim.

Aggie left Gilroy ground tied and approached Chris. The ground was delightfully softened by pine needles and all around them their scent was heavy on the air. There was barely room for two on the rock but she sat down anyway. After a moment she put her lightly scarred hand on top of his larger, weathered one. His knuckles pushed into her palm and she could feel his callouses when she folded her fingers beneath his.

Absently, without even thinking of it, he began to massage her fingers with his own. She could tell it was familiar to him, harkening back to a time when he had been a devoted husband and such actions were commonplace, but Aggie had spent all of her twenty three years with her mother and brother, and any masculine attention was so foreign to her she didn't know how to react, so she sat stock still and said nothing.

She wasn't sure how much time had elapsed but she had relaxed and was enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face and the warmth growing beneath Chris' hand and the place where their arms came together. Queitly, Aggie leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes; the ride had been harder on her than she expected and she was sore. The turmoil of emotion had also taken its toll, leaving her deflated and exhausted.

"Hey! Are you alright?" she heard Chris exclaim suddenly and her eyes snapped open. His arm was behind her shoulders and he was looking down at her, his face a picture of concern.

"Yes, I'm... I'm fine. Of course. What-?"

She looked around and noticed that, save for Chris' arm, she was flat on her back on the heavenly scented forest floor.

"You just fell over backwards. I barely caught you."

A small smile formed on her face. "I must have fallen asleep. It was so warm and I was so tired. The last thing I remember was leaning against you and then..." she raised her hand and gestured around. She laughed lightheartedly. "It's funny. I'm laying here on the ground in the middle of nowhere, but I feel better than I did before."

"Maybe you just need to rest." he picked his hat up from where it lay on his thigh, and held it aloft, blocking the sun from her face.

Her smile slowly faded as she looked up into his eyes and he looked down into hers. Chris' heart quickened in his chest and he felt his face flush in her gaze. A feeling arose in him that had long lay buried, purposely forgotten so that he wouldn't feel its absence so keenly.

Heat blossomed on Aggie's face as well, and she fouind that she couldn't slow her breathing. A completely unfamiliar emotion gripped her and she was startled by it. The jar of butterflies in her stomach had been tipped over and set free; she could feel them, fluttering. Cautiously, not sure if it was permissable or not, she slowly extended her hand and laid her palm against his weather beaten cheek. A faint stubble sprouted there, rough against her skin. Perhaps it was only a few seconds that they lay there like that, or maybe it was several minutes; looking back, Aggie couldn't remember. However long it was, Chris felt his desire growing by the minute and when he could stand it no longer he lowered his lips to hers and kissed a woman with true emotion for the first time in many years.

It was the frist time Aggie had ever been held by a man, let alone kissed, and a strange yet entirely pleasant tingling sensation overtook her body. The blood rushed to her head and she felt dizzy. Instinctually, she moved her hand from his cheek to the back of his head and threaded her fingers through his hair. Her eyes had been open but she closed them and inhaled his masculine scent, light snapping behind her eyelids.

He dropped the hat from his free hand and used it, along with the arm behind her back, to haul her up into a sitting position, nearly on his lap. With one arm around the small of her back and one wrapped around her shoulders, he held her to him as tightly as he could without hurting her.

Breathing rapidly, inhaling and exhaling through her nose so as not to break the kiss, Aggie felt powerless in his grasp. She was terrified by his intensity. How could a man be so fierce and yet so heart-wrenchingly gentle at the same time?

He brought his hand to her face and ran his thumb along her cheek, cupping it tenderly.

The pin pricks of light disappeared from behind her eyes and Aggie's mind began to organize itself, clawing back from chaos to reality. Suddenly, her mother's face floated in front of her, and WIlliam's. There was the banker in Lone Pine, and Ben. And finally, there was Ezra - watching her fight back from the brink of death, green eyes steady and unwavering.

Her eyes snapped open and she tremulously pushed on Chris' chest. He leaned back instantly, surrendering her lips and grasping her by the shoulders, keeping her upright. They were both panting, faces flushed and eyes alight. He looked her over intently, watching for signs of pain or distress.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry, Aggie," he said earnestly. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head and struggled to her feet, pulling him up with her. "No, everything's fine I've just... it's been a long day and... so much has happened. I feel..." she put her hand on her chest, indicating her heart, but stopped because the only thing she felt was overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions the day had brought and she didn't know how to explain it. She looked up at him and hoped he could read some kind of answer in her face.

It appeared that he did; she saw kind understanding in his blue eyes. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. She could feel his heart pounding beneath his black shirt, could feel the rise and fall as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Agatha?"

"Yes," she said, her voice weak although she tried to pretend otherwise.

"You've never been kissed before, have you?"

She shook her head, no.

"Have I upset you? I'm sorry, I didn't think."

"I'm not upset," she answered, pulling back and looking at him sincerely. "It was," she searched for the right word. "It was wonderful, really. I trust you."

He took both of her hands in his own and felt his chest swell with emotion. It was all he could do to rein himself in and not hoist her up off the ground and shower her with kisses. He wanted to move slowly, he didn't want to rush her, didn't want to upset her or frighten her. Leading her by the hand they returned to the horses, who had wandered off a short way, grazing contentedly although the grass was sparse and coarse.

"Could I kiss you again?" he asked, even though it was not in his nature to ask for anything but to demand it and take it by force if necessary. He waited with bated breath, worried that she would reject him.

At last, she answered. "Yes. You can."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Here's another chapter, I'm on a roll! I haven't gotten many reviews for the last few chapters, so let me know if you're enjoying it.**

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"But _Mary_ likes Chris!" Casey exclaimed when Aggie had finally relented and told her what had happened on the way home from Lone Pine.

"Shh! I know it," Aggie admonished.

"I thought you liked Ezra?"

"I never said that, _you_ said that."

"Well you never said you liked Chris either, but now you're kissing him."

Aggie put both hands to her face and took a deep breath. She was so confused about the whole situation herself she couldn't see any way to possibly explain it to her friend. She only hoped she would keep her word and not tell a soul what Aggie had confessed to her.

Casey, on the other hand, was just glad that it hadn't been nearly as complicated with JD. Sure, there had been a few bumps in the road but it had all come together in a fairly straight forward way. She met him, she liked him, she pursued him, he was hers. What other way was there to do it?

The truth was, Aggie did like Ezra. She'd had a sneaking suspicion for months that she was in love with him. So what had happened with Chris? Why, if the younger more carefree gambling man viewed her as just a sweet young woman with no hint of passion, would Chris find her desirable? She knew she was naive, that she had really no idea of the ways of the world and that she had spent her prime years working the unyielding dirt of a farm with only her mother, brother, and occasionally Ben for company. She didn't feel old but she knew that she was on the verge of being considered a spinster, and that a woman who didn't marry before twenty five was a lost cause. There had never been any opportunity for her to marry at eighteen or nineteen, which seemed to be an appropriate age for most. It was certainly a blessing that she had been spared the unending pregnancies and childbirth that plagued so many married women, but should she give up hope entirely? How could she, now that Chris had made his feelings plain?

"It seems like a whole heap of trouble," Casey said, shaking her head. "Having two men to worry about."

"I don't have anyone to worry about except you," Aggie replied, passing the girl a pitchfork. "Start throwing down some of this hay."

It didn't take a brilliant man to see that Chris had changd since his trip with Aggie to Lone Pine, and Ezra was no fool. Buck had hinted that perhaps their fearless leader was infatuated with a certain "little redhead", and Ezra would certainly agree.

"I always thought we'd see Chris and Mary in my church," Josiah mused. "As man and wife."

"The Widow Travis is a difficult stove to stoke," Buck said.

"What...? Oh," JD said, catching on to Buck's meaning. "You mean Chris is in love with Aggie? Agatha, out at Nettie and Casey's?"

"The very one."

There was no denying that Chris did indeed have a strong affection for Aggie, the question was, did Aggie feel the same towards him? There was a possibility that the two had fallen in love during their journey to Lone Pine and back, but it was slim. What seemed more likely, to Ezra, was that the gunslinger had taken advantage of the young woman when she was most vulnerable.

He knew Chris had become attached to Aggie the moment he had learned of the fire, understandably so since it had been a terrible blaze that claimed his wife and son. But he hadn't considered the effect the man's feelings might have had on Agatha. How easy it would be for her to slip into a predetermined role Chris provided by assuming his own role of husband to a tragically injured girl like Aggie, spared, as Josiah had said, from the flames of Hell.

"What happened in Lone Pine, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra demanded, once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light.

Chris was startled nad his hand went immediately to the gun on his hip. When he recognized Ezra, he scowled. "You oughta know better than to sneak up on a man that way. It could get you shot."

"So shoot me," Ezra retorted. "I asked you a question."

"What question? Chris snapped back irritably. He and Ezra were not particularly close at the best of times and Chris' temper was renowned for being short fused.

"What happened in Lone Pine? What did you do to Miss Campbell?"

"What did I do to her?"

"I believe you heard me the first time, Mr. Larabee."

"I don't like your tone, Ezra," Chris said, his voice quiet and steely.

"I don't like to see a man take advantage of a young woman. Scoundrel that I may be I would never stoop so low as to push unwanted affection on a lady."

The men stood less than three feet from each other, hands clenched into fists at their sides. The tension between them was palpable, snapping with the potential to become full blown hostility.

"I never laid a hand on her, and if you think I did go ahead and ask her."

"Something happened out there, anyone can see it."

"What happens between Aggie and I is between Aggie and I and no one else. Least of all you."

"Least of all me? I saved her life, Mr. Larabee! I don't intend to play the part of hero and parade about with my chest puffed out like a rooster, but she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for myself, and we all know it."

Chris chewed his lip thoughtfully, then nodded. "That's true, Ezra. There's no denying you saved her life, and I do thank you for it. But that doesn't mean you've got any say in what's happening now."

"So there is something to speak of?" Ezra persisted. "Do you really suppose she's in any state to-"

"I suppose she's able to decide her feelings for herself. As for me, I know what I feel and there's nobody taking advantage of _nobody_ , you understand that?"

Chris stood his ground and glared at his compatriot, Ezra did the same.

"My god," Chris said, as the realization dawned on him. "Youre in love with her, ain't you?"

"Are you?" Ezra demanded, feeling his skin flush beneath his collar.

Chris didn't deny it or attempt to make any excuses. "I am. I'm in love with her, and I believe she's in love with me, too. And it ain't none of your business."

The words hit Ezra as soundly as a physical blow. Chris and Agatha? Who could have foretold such a story, everyone knew Chris had been in love with Mary Travis since he first laid eyes on her. And Aggie, Aggie was his polar opposite. It simply couldn't be, could it?

"I don't believe you. What could you possibly offer her?" Ezra spat.

"What could _you_?" Chris answered, his temper flaring. "Have you ever truly loved a woman, Ezra? Would you marry her and settle down? Do you know what it means to be a husband or a father? Why the hell would she want a bail jumping card shark like you? Sitting up all night waiting for you to come home from the card table, running off every time you smell money somewhere else. You so much as try and lead her down that road and I'll kill you."

Ezra stood there, stunned. Perhaps the most hurtful thing was that in his heart, he knew that Chris was right. Had he ever been in love with a woman? No, not unless he counted that soiled dove on a Missouri river boat when he was seventeen, and she'd left him high and dry without his wallet after two weeks. Living with Maude hadn't provided much education in the way of love and affection, she'd shown him marriage was a business deal at best, a prison term at worst.

Would he be willing to change the life he'd made for himself, in exchange for making Aggie his wife? Would she even accept such a proposal?

FInally, his inward seething became an outward anger. "Don't you dare judge me Mr. Larabee. If I were to marry, I'm sure I wouldn't let my wife and young son burn alive. Your record as a husband is distinctly poor, is it not?"

He knew he had crossed a line and was not even mildly surprised when Chris jumped forward and drove a fist directly into his jaw, sending him tumbling backwards through the open stable doors and into the street. He landed in the thick, chalky dust with a distinctive, _oomph_ bursting from his lungs. An acute pain swelled in his jaw yet he was too winded to stand up and prepare for another onslaught. He also knew that the blow had been justified, even if he wouldn't admit it aloud. Still, he was entirely unprepared to see Chris come storming out into the light and haul him upright before landing another powerful blow. It became apparent to Ezra by the look in the man's eyes that he was not going to stop and that he had better put up a fight, no matter how detestable he found fisticuffs.

Over at the saloon, the five fellow hired men were still sitting casually at their usual table, relaxing and tossing stories back and forth when a man came in off the street and announced excitedly that: "Larabee's poundin' on that fancy little fella from the hotel!"

Everyone jumped up from their seats and carried their drinks into the street. It was one thing to witness a brawl (they'd never pass up the opportunity) but to see their peacekeepers beating on each other was a spectacle too good to miss.

Buck was one of the first through the swinging batwing doors and he looked up the street towards a cloud of dust where he could still clearly make out Ezra and Chris embroiled in a ferocious scuffle. He could tell, even from that distance, that this was no good natured punch up between friends who disagreed over a finer point, but an all out fight; and he knew Chris well enough to know that Ezra was in trouble.

"Aw hell," he groaned.

Vin was close behind him and took off at a run with Buck towards the fight, knowing that he'd need help to break it up.

"Aw hell!" A dsigruntled, ornery citizen reiterated. "Let 'em fight!"

"Most excitement we've had all week," another piped up, throwing back his beer and jostling forward to get a better view.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Aggie, in the meantime, was blissfully unaware that she was causing such a disturbance. Not so blissfully, she was dealing with a disturbance within herself, revolving around the exact same issue but lacking the testosterone and violence. She had seen Chris once since they had returned from Lone Pine, when she went into town to deposit her money in the bank at Four Corners. He had removed his hat and spoken kindly to her, but hadn't shown any outward signs of affection, which she appreciated; the last thing she needed were rumours of indecent behaviour or her lack of modesty making the rounds. She had remained friendly but somewhat more demure than was her custom. However, one look in his eyes told her that inside he was a rage of passion and that nothing had changed since he had kissed her. She was surprised to find herself wishing he would kiss her again.

There were several nights she had lain awake, playing out that afternoon over and over again in her mind. The emotions were taxing, and she woke from fitful sleep unrested and still confused.

"I'd like to see you again," he had said quietly, that day in front of the bank. "I can come out to Nettie's."

"Well..." she had thought for a moment about his offer. "Well, actually, I'd like to ask your opinion about something."

"Shoot."

"I would like to give Nettie and Casey their house back, and I can afford something of my own now. Would you come with me and look over a little parcel of land just a few miles east of Nettie's? I don't suppose Mr. Granger would give me a fair deal on my own."

"Isaac Granger? That old coot? You're right, he wouldn't. I know the place, though."

"I've been there, the soil is good. There's a little creek, and it's..." she stopped and blushed, looking down at her feet suddenly.

"It's what?" Chris pressed.

"It's... pretty," Aggie said, smiling sheepishly. "I know I shouldn't buy it only because it's pretty, but..."

Chris laughed at the expression on her face, at her embarassment. "Why shouldn't you have it if it's pretty? There's worse reasons to want something. I'll come out anytime, just tell me when."

She had given him the date she had arranged with Isaac Granger, which happened to be that day, the day he was fighting with Ezra. How quickly his good mood had soured.

Now, here he sat with Buck and Vin poised and ready to pounce between him and Ezra should they explode into another fight, one hand over his quickly blackening eye and another resting on the table before him. He could taste blood where the gambling man had split his lip and he spat expertly into the spitoon beside the table. It was quite obvious, however that Chris had fared far better than his former companion. To be fair, Chris was a better fighter and a bigger man. He'd had the benefit of the first punch and had been unrelenting in his punishment. Quite frankly he was surprised Ezra had landed the few blows that he did - if Chris hadn't been so blinded by rage he probably wouldn't have.

"What on earth are you boys thinking?" Josiah demanded. "Beating on each other in broad daylight in the street?"

"I would have figured you had more sense than that, both of you," Vin added.

"What the hell are you fighting about?" Buck asked, looking his oldest friend in the eye.

JD sat in shocked silence, not sure what to think about the entire situation. He knew Chris and Ezra didn't get along adn there was more firction between the two of them than anyone else in the group of Seven, but he didn't think they would ever erupt into violence in the street of Four Corners.

Neither Chris nor Ezra said a word, but glared at each other across the table.

"Damn it!" Buck slapped his hand down on the table. "What has gotten into you, Chris?"

"Ask that sainted bastard," Chris said hotly.

"I believe you're laying the blame in the wrong corner, Mr. Larabee. You began this entire mess by pushing your unwanted attentions on-"

"Shut the hell up, you've got this idea in your head like I forced myself on her. I didn't do anything to her she didn't want, what kind of man do you think I am? I ain't pushing anything on her or anybody else. You think I took her to Lone Pine and raped her?"

Ezra leapt up from his seat and Chris did the same, each was pulled back and restrained in their seats by Vin and Buck, respectively.

Curse words tumbled forth from each man, an incoherent and vulgar babble that was silenced by Josiah's booming voice.

"Enough! We are clearly discussing a young lady's virtue and I am certain she would be as appalled as I am by your vulgarity!"

"How correct you are, Mr. Sanchez," Ezra said, clapping a handkerchief over his nose to stem the flow of blood that had started again. He pushed on it ever so slightly and winced. Larabee may have broken it. Running his tongue over his teeth he was relieved to find that his gold tooth was still in tact. The last thing he wanted to do was crawl around on his hands and knees looking for it in the dirt.

"All I did was kiss her. I stopped when she wanted and I asked her before I kissed her again."

"Which _her_ are we talking about?!" JD exclaimed.

Buck put his face in his hands and shook his head in exasperation. "Y'all are fighting over a woman. You're fighting over that little redhead?"

"Aggie?" JD said. "I thought Chris liked Aggie."

"He does," Vin said, his voice barely audible, grabbing JD by the collar and hauling him back in his chair. "It's becomin' pretty clear Ezra likes her a fair bit, too."

"You're _both_ in love with her?" he said, surprised.

"Son, be quiet," Buck said. "Just quit talking, will you?"

"I promised I'd meet her today out at old man Granger's place. I'm leaving now," Chris said, with an air of finality.

"You are not going out there unaccompanied!" Ezra protested.

Chris stood up and shook off Buck's attempts to seat him again. "You want to say something else about my history as a husband and father, Standish? Or are we through?"

Everyone knew that Sarah and Adam were a touchy subject that no one dared to broach. Speaking to Chris about his family was taboo and everyone respected that, so they all turned to Ezra expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"I may have suggested I would perform better as a husband and father than Mr. Larabee, and that I would not allow my wife and son to be killed right under my nose."

Josiah's big hand slapped down on the back of Ezra's head, ruffling his wavy brown hair. A hollow smacking noise reverberated around the table as Ezra just caught himself from smashing his possibly already broken nose into the tabletop.

"That's too far, son," Josiah lectured, a hard edge in his voice.

Silence reigned around the table until Buck finally got to his feet. "Neither of you are going anywhere right now. Look at you, you really think Aggie wants to see you, all bloody and bruised?"

In an attempt to be lighthearted he ran his hands through his hair and plopped his hat on, then straightened his collar and smiled. "Why don't you let the _real_ ladies man here escort Miss Campbell this afternoon while you clean up and simmer down."

Leaving no room for argument, he strode out of the saloon and out to his fine grey horse, who stood waiting at the hitching post, unfazed by the ruckus. The conversation had steered his own thoughts to Sarah and Adam, though, and it wasn't a pleasant ride with only his own mind for company.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in uploading a new chapter, I actually forgot about this story for a little while with everything else going on, but I promise it won't happen again.**

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Mr. Wilmington, I wasn't expecting you," Aggie said, her voice cheerful, though she had hoped to see Chris.

"I'm afraid Chris just couldn't make it ma'am, but I'm happy to help."

"Do you know much about property, Mr. Wilmington?" she asked.

"Less than I know about women," he answered honestly.

"Well, I hear that what you don't know about women isn't worth knowing, so I guess you'll do," Aggie teased.

Mr. Granger wanted $115 for the place, but after some not so kind mocking on Buck's part and a heated exchange between all three parties, Aggie offered the old man $68 and he took it.

"All I want is to get out of this goddamned country, anyway," he cursed. "I'm going back to Mississippi, to hell with the West!"

"Sir, such language in front of the lady," Buck admonished. Aggie hid a smile behind her hand, she knew he wasn't thinking of her but was rubbing salt in the wound, and enjoying it.

"I'll see you in town then, Mr. Granger? And you'll sign it over?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow," he said, waving his hands. "For now, this place is still mine. So get the hell off of it!"

Once they were a safe distance away from the little shack and Isaac Granger they shared a good laugh over his attitude and Aggie's good fortune, the land was worth at least $75. As it was, she would now have a place of her own not far from Nettie and Casey and a good little nest egg left over.

"What kept Chris from coming?" Aggie asked as they let their horses meander the trail along the creek that had first caught her attention. "I'm grateful for your help and certainly I'm happy about your company, I just thought he would be here."

Buck was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts together. He could tell her the truth, but he could just as easily dismiss the entire conversation by telling her that something urgent needed Chris' attention and the Judge had insisted he see to it, or something of the sort.

"Agatha, if it ain't my place to ask, then tell me so, but what are your feelings for Chris?"

Taken aback by the question, Aggie pondered on it for a moment. Clearly he knew what had happened between the two of them, and it was no secret that Buck was Chris' longest and most trusted friend.

"I'm very fond of him," she answered truthfully.

"Are you in love with him?"

She pulled up on Gilroy's reins and Buck stopped alongside her. "What does this have to do with him not being here? Have I done something to upset him? I don't know how I feel, this is all new to me. I've never had the affection of a man before, Coming right on the heels of... well of all this nasty business," she touched the place on her shoulderblade absently, almost out of habit, where the worst of the scarring was. She could vaguely remember a burning beam lying crossways across that place, how the flame had crept up closer and closer until it was on her, the fear of it. She shook her head and tried to push the thought to the back of her mind where it spent most of its time. "I think I could love him, Buck. He kissed me and, well I've never felt that way before."

Manoeuvering his horse closer to hers he reached out and took his hand in her own. It was comforting but at least she was able to distinguish her feelings a litle better because she felt no spark or surge of emotion when he touched her. And while her heart had raced when Chris leaned in close to her, she found she only had a gentle feeling of friendship for the handsome man next to her.

"I know how you feel, it ain't always an easy thing - love. But it's plain for me to see that Chris has love in his heart for you. That's not the problem."

"What is the problem then?"

Buck laid her hand down on her leg and she took hold of the saddle horn.

"He's not the only one."

For a moment, Aggie was worried she was going to suffer an extrememly uncomfortable few minutes in which Buck professed his own love for her, and she flushed with embrassment at the thought. "You're not going to tell me you love me, are you?" she asked, clearly hoping he wouldn't.

"Me?" the ladies man laughed heartily. "You're a real pretty girl, don't get me wrong Aggie. But I like a woman with a little more... experience. And a little more meat on her bones." he leaned over and tweaked her arm good naturedly. "No, it ain't my heart you've got. It's Ezra's."

"Ezra's?" Aggie asked.

She could see his face in her mind, his green eyes and the flash from his gold tooth along with that remarkable smile. It was Ezra she'd wanted all this time and she had never believed he felt anything more for her than friendship, and perhaps a certain pride at having saved her life. But now she did have feelings for Chris, she'd let him kiss her - twice, and what she'd felt had been real. She knew from the look in his eyes that he was falling in love with her, how could she choose Ezra now and let him down? Hadn't he been through enough already? Besides that, everyone would call her a loose woman, she'd gain a reputation for being passed around the Seven, it didn't have to be true to be believed.

"The reason Chris isn't here is he and Ezra had a bust up over you this afternoon, and a few things were said. I figured both of them were a little too hot under the collar to come out, so I came instead."

"A bust up?"

"There were fists. Possibly some feet involved, too, but it was too dusty for me to tell by the end."

Aggie put her hand over her mouth and tried to calm her racing heart. "I'm sorry," she said at length. "I never meant to be any trouble. I didn't mean to come between Chris and Ezra, I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"It ain't your fault, but I think maybe we better straighten it out as best we can."

"Yes, of course," Aggie agreed. "I'll come to town with you right now."

 _But how am I supposed to straighten it out for them when I can't straighten it out for myself,_ she thought as Buck started in the direction of Four Corners.

"Where are those two fools?" Buck asked Vin, who he encountered on the way into town.

"Cooling their heels in the sheriff's office," Vin said, indicating the way with his thumb.

"You didn't have to lock them up, did you?"

"Not yet, but I just might," Vin replied, his tone showing his obvious exasperation. He tipped the brim of his hat towards Aggie, then rode past her off into the plains.

Sure enough, the two men sat on either side of the sheriff's office, with JD at the desk in the center of the room between them. He eyed them both suspiciously, wondering if he'd have to club one of them on the head if they started fighting again. If he had to, he'd hit Chris he decided. Because Chris was the most likely to shoot him for breaking up the scuffle if he remained concious.

"Afternoon, JD," Buck said, throwing open the door. "How are our two friends?"

"Please, Mr. Wilmington, I have a splitting headache," Ezra groaned.

"How'd you make out with old Granger?" Chris asked.

"Just fine and dandy. Matter of fact, I brought Aggie along to celebrate."

"Miss Campbell?" Ezra asked, sitting upright and peering around the doorframe.

"Yes," Aggie confirmed, appearing at Buck's elbow. "Would you two give us a minute?" she asked, looking first at Buck then JD.

Buck indicated to JD that he should get up and make tracks for the door as quickly as he could, so the younger man did, shutting the door behind them.

"You look lovely, today," Ezra complimented, looking her over.

Indeed, she'd made herself a new skirt of grey and green wool, with a split for riding. A servicable white blouse with a green waistcoat. She knew that green would bring out the color of her eyes and her hair, which she had grown almost sinfully proud of since it had began to grow out again. She never thought she would cherish her hair so much until she'd nearly lost it all in the fire. But she hadn't come to be complimented and at the moment, how she looked wasn't her concern.

"Buck told me all about what happened today," she said sternly. "And I want to tell you I'm hurt and ashamed by it."

"It was merely a misunderstanding between Mr. Larabee and myself, I'm sure," Ezra said, glaring across the room.

"There's been a misunderstanding, alright," Chris said between grit teeth.

Aggie folded her arms and looked between the two of them. Ezra had taken a pretty good beating from what she could see, but Chris hadn't come away unscathed, either. She stood there, rootd by the door, unsure of who to go to. Finally, she went to Chris and bent down to look his face over. Tenderly, she laid a hand on his cheek; there was no stubble, he must have shaved. Looking down she noticed that he was not wearing a black shirt, as she had grown accustomed to, but one in a maroon color.

"You do look lovely," he said, watching her face.

"You've looked better," Aggie replied. She dropped her hand from his face to the collar of his shirt. "This color suits you, Chris."

Behind them, Ezra cleared his throat. Aggie straightened and turned to face him, she crossed the floor and took the gambler's hand in her own. It wasn't nearly so hard or calloused as Chris' was. She felt the same thrill of emotion as she had that day he'd so gently cupped her chin and given her the apples. But she knew that he had started the argument and she was disappointed in him, so she let his hand drop and returned to her spot by the door.

"You two are supposed to be friends," she admonished. "People here look up to you. _I_ look up to you, both of you."

"I don't believe Mr. Larabee or myself have set an example worthy of looking up to," Ezra said regretfully.

"Not today you haven't. Ezra, Buck told me what you said to Chris, about his wife and son. How could you be so cruel? How dare you use a man's past against him that way? I'm disappointed that you would say such a thing, no matter how angry you are. Are you going to use William and Mam against me?"

"No, Agatha, of course I would never..." he trailed off. "I've behaved poorly, you're right. There's no excuse for it, I've been a brute and far from a gentleman." he stood up and for a minute, Aggie thought he might try to push past her and leave, but instead he walked up to Chris and extended his hand.

"I do sincerely apologize, Mr. Larabee. What I said was certainly inexcusable but I do hope that we can put it behind us."

Chris didn't make any move to accept Ezra's offer, and it hung there between them.

"Chris, shake his hand," Aggie pleaded.

"That wasn't the only thing that was said. Do you remember what you accused me of, Ezra? With Aggie?"

"What did you accuse him of?" Aggie asked.

When Ezra didn't answer, Chris did. "He thinks I forced myself on you, in Lone Pine."

"Forced yourself? Do you mean? Ezra! You don't really believe that Chris would do that, do you? And do you really think I'm so simple minded I'd forgive him and allow him to court me? That I wouldn't say anything to anyone?"

She shook her head mournfully. "I thought I knew you better than that, you told me you were a gentleman and I believed you. But you're a mean spirited man with mean spirited thoughts, I've never been so embarassed."

Her eyes welled up with tears and she was angry with herself for letting her emotions overrun her. Now was not a time for crying and she felt weak. Both Ezra and Chris started to speak but she silenced them by immediately raising her hand. "Be quiet, both of you! I don't want to hear anymore. I won't come between the two of you, if I'd known I would cause this much trouble I never would have stayed. This is my home now, but if you carry on in this way, I'll leave, no matter how much I don't want to. If you behave this way and ask me to choose between you, I'll pack up what little I have and leave Four Corners and you'll never see me again. Sort it out like men."

Earnestly crying now, with a stream of tears rolling down each cheek and dripping from her chin, she whirled on her heel and left the sheriff's office, bumping into Buck and JD who had obviously been listening at the door. There was only one place she could think to go and so she did, walking into the Clarion and collapsing into a chair, sobbing.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I haven't gotten any reviews for a while, I hope you all aren't bored ;) Here's Chapter Eighteen for you.**

Chapter Eighteen

Mary was so startled she nearly dropped her typeset, but when she saw who had come in she was hardly surprised.

"Come in the back and have a cup of tea," she insisted gently, rolling off the long white cuffs that protected her sleeves. "We can talk all about it."

"You must hate me," Aggie cried, allowing herself to be led by the elbow around the printing press and into the small private room at the back where Mary took her meals while she was working.

Mary smiled at her. "No, Aggie. Quite the opposite, I'm very fond of you. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I never said anything to Chris to make him think that I... and I didn't know Ezra felt that way about me. It's all so confusing. Do you think I should leave? I told them I would if they didn't settle it, but do you think I should anyway?"  
"No, I don't think you should leave," Mary said firmly. "You're a part of this town now."

She put the kettle on the waning stove, stoked it up and sat across from Aggie at the table, taking both of her hands in her own. "They will settle it, believe me. Maybe not in a way we like or approve of, but they'll settle it between them."

"I'm sorry for what's happened."

"Of course you are, you have a good heart. Anyone can see that and that's probably one of the reasons why they love you. Now, I'd like you to think about this and tell me the truth."

Aggie nodded.

"Which of them would you choose, if none of this had happened and you could start over again? Are you in love with Chris, or with Ezra? Or are you in love at all?"

Aggie looked into the kindly woman's face but couldn't answer the question. She raised her arms in a gesture of helplessness, then dropped them back on the table in front of Mary. "I don't know anymore. I thought I did but now I don't know at all."

"Well, that's the first thing you must decide," Mary said, getting up to prepare the teapot. "The more quickly you do, the better."

Judge Travis descended from the stage unaware that a key component of his town's peacekeeping operations had descended into chaos. He had urgent business with the Seven, but Mary must be the first stop, as usual. He had to bring her news of Billy and listen to her keen observations on the latest happenings.

Quite often she was there to greet him when he arrived in town, but this was an unscheduled visit and she was no doubt hard at work at the newspaper. So he took up his travel bag, adjusted his hat and guided himself down the street to the Clarion.

There was no one about when he opened the door, but he could smell the faint aroma of tea brewing and knew that Mary would be in the back, or at the very least she would return soon and she certainly wouldn't mind him helping himself to a cup while he waited.

Naturally, he was surprised to see Mary and Agatha seated at the table, Agatha visibly upset and Mary being her motherly. problem solving self.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Judge," Mary said, standing up and moving between him and Aggie. "I wasn't expecting you, what a pleasant surprise," she said warmly.

"Why is Miss Campbell crying?" Judge Travis asked, peering around his daughter in law's shoulder.

Knowing that he was an old fashioned man with little patience for outright emotion and a distinct fear of anything relating to the female sex, Mary made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Oh, just lady trouble, Judge." When she looked as if she was about to explain exactly _which_ lady problem she might be referring to, the Judge cleared his throat and moved quickly towards the door.

"Where are my deputies?" he asked brusquely. "I have important matters to discuss with them."

"Over at the jail, I believe."

She didn't bother to explain who or why. _One crisis at a time_ , she thought to herself, returning to the back room and refilling Aggie's teacup.

To say that Judge Travis was unimpressed by the explanation he recieved when he came upon four of his men at the jail, two of them bruised and bloody, would be an understatement. It would be more accurate to use the colloquial term "hopping mad", and he made no effort to hide it.

"You're lucky I don't revoke your pardon!" he said to Ezra. "You fool, what were you thinking?"

Before the gambler had a chance to answer, the Judge turned on Chris and unleased a lecture about responsibility, maturity and downright common sense.

"I know a woman can turn a sensible man into horse's ass, my wife... well, she can be a firecracker herself; but don't you both think Miss Campbell has been through enough just now without having to put up with your ridiculous antics? It just so happens that she's sitting in Mary's kitchen right now, crying and if I findthe same situation again there will be hell to pay. Not just for the girl's sake but for the sake of this town. You men are paid to take care of things around here and to do that you have to be alert and focused on the task at hand."

Both Ezra and Chris looked decidedly guilty at the suggestion they had been shirking their duties and driven Aggie away in tears.

"Moving on," the Judge said, glancing around at the four men in his presence, daring them to move or speak now that he had finished his tirade and was getting down to the urgent news he had brought with him.

Removing his bill fold from his pocket he withdrew a piece of paper and unfolded it.

"I don't know if you've heard, but there's a bad bunch of characters stirring up trouble in the territory and I think they might be headed this way. Five men, two are brothers, you can tell by the look of them," the Judge handed the paper to Chris, which turned out to be a wanted poster. "So far they've robbed three stagecoaches and three banks and shot and killed 14 men. They've also broken up their fair share of saloons and boarding houses and left a string of mightily abused women in their wake."

Chris was all business now, passing the paper on to Buck. "Sounds like a bunch of real gems. What makes you think they're headed here?"

"Every six weeks the stage from San Francisco carries a pretty big deposit on its way to Colorado."

"I didn't know that," JD interrupted.

"Not many people do," the Judge said irritably, "that's how it's been kept safe so far. But I think they might have an inside man on this one."

"When's the next stage due?" Chris asked.

"Three weeks,"

"Good Lord," Ezra exclaimed when Buck had given him the wanted poster.

"What?" Everyone asked in unison.

"These three men here," he held the poster up and indicated the three he meant. "These are the lovely gentleman I arrested when Chris was in Lone Pine with Miss Campbell. The three who came to drunken blows outside of the saloon."

JD looked the rough sketches of the men over. "He didn't have a hat like that, that one, but those are them, for sure," he confirmed.

"You had these men in this very jail and you let them go?" the Judge demanded.

"We didn't know, Judge Travis. We ain't never seen that poster before," JD said hastily.

"The kid's right, we didn't have no idea who these men were until now."

The Judge went to the desk JD normally occupied and opened one of the drawers. Rifling through the papers he appeared to know precisely what he was looking for, Finally, from the bottom and back of the drawer he looked at one of the papers and exclaimed, "Aha!"

Slapping it down on the desk all four men looked at it closely. It was another wanted poster, a little older and a little worn, but the same three men Ezra had recognized were the only three faces sketched on it.

"These are the original three members of the Bartholomew Gang. The addition of the two brothers is recent, confirmed only four months ago. You had them here and you let them go. Now countless folks have lost their money, several women have lost their virtue and 14 men have lost their lives."

A defeated silence hung over the room until the Judge suggested they go and round up their fellow peacekeepers and put a plan into action before there was any more bloodshed.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I've been having so much trouble uploading for the past while, it must be my computer or internet provider. I hope this upload works this time.**

 **Anyway, here's another chapter for you, it's pretty short but I think some of you will be happy for you, some of you maybe not ;)**

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A week had passed and still they could turn up no good leads about the new and improved Bartholomew Gang. But, over the course of the week, Chris had worked up the nerve to venture out to Old Man Granger's which now belonged to Aggie, and offer up an apology. So far as he knew Ezra had been keeping his distance; he had certainly been keeping his distance from Chris, spending all of the hours he was off patrol winning card games in the saloon.

Aggie was sitting on a pile of new fence rails, panting and gasping when Chris rode up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"It's my lungs," she answered. "Sometimes it's so hard to breathe when I work."

Chris sat down on the rails next ot her and rubbed her back gently until her breathing returned to normal.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her, "You can ask for help, you don't have to do it all on your own."

"I don't want to cause any more trouble with anyone," Aggie replied stubbornly. "I'll manage."

"Or you'll kill yourself," Chris said flatly.

"Possibly." she glared at him. "Why are you here? I haven't seen you since that day in town, you've hardly spoken to me since Lone Pine."

Behind her anger he could see that she was hurt, and confused.

"Agatha, I'm sorry, don't get the wrong idea. I'd love to see you everyday," he smiled, a small but open smile that betrayed enormous amounts of feeling. "I could probably be happy seeing you everyday for the rest of my life."

"Don't say that!" she exclaimed, jumping up from where she sat.

"Why not?"

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples. She'd had time to think in the past week, she'd had time to think over again everything she'd been thinking about since he'd kissed her that day. And she'd come to a decision, but she was so scared of hurting him she didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"There's something you want to tell me, Aggie," Chris said quietly, as if he had read her mind. "Go ahead and tell me, you can tell me anything."

"You won't like it," she said.

"I don't like seeing you like this," he replied.

He'd shaved again, she could tell. And today he wore a white shirt with his black pants and hat. He really was a handsome man and she felt for a minute that she was outside of herself, watching her interaction with him. She was flattered and more than a little amazed that he would want her to begin with. Lurking behind the dark countenance was as good a man as any she'd known, and a heart of pure gold. With time she knew she could love him, and with patience she could bring out that good man. He would want to be that man for her, but deep down she knew she wasn't _in_ love with him, and that Mary Travis could more easily be the woman for him if only they weren't both too blind and stubborn to admit it.

Kneeling in front of him she took his leathery hand into her smaller one and pulled him down from the pile of fence rails so that he would be level with her. She didn't want to say this side by side but face to face.

"I've had time to think, Chris. And it's so hard for me to say it because I don't want to hurt you. I really do love you, just not in the way that you want me to. You're such a good man, you're a better man than any woman deserves and I know your feelings are true. But, I've also thought about how you look at me."

He wanted to say something, to protest what he knew was coming, but she didn't allow him to. Looking him straight in the eye and clasping his hand tightly, she continued.

"When you look at me it's like you're seeing a miracle, like you've been blessed somehow, but it isn't _me_ you feel that way about. I can tell that you think I'm your second chance to do right by Sarah. I understand, Chris, why you would fall in love with someone like me, someone who was spared the way she should have been, and I would love to spend my life making you happy, if only it were that easy."

"Why can't it be?" he asked, his voice so accented by sadness Aggie felt tears prick at the back of her eyes.

"I can't be Sarah, Chris. I can't have you looking at me and seeing her, I don't want to live my life in her place. And I know, if we were to lay together," she blushed slightly, "All you'd see are my scars. You'd look at the burns on me and you'd imagine that night you lost her over and over again. Maybe you don't think so now, but you will, eventually."

Chris was silent for a long time after she had finished talking. The minutes whiled away until they had been sitting there for nearly an hour, She didn't know what else to say and he didn't, either. Aggie could tell by the look on his face that he was thinking the matter over very deeply, and perhaps mourning the loss of a love before it had even blossomed.

"Will you take Ezra, then?" he finally asked.

"No, not if it's going to cause more ill will between you. I don't want to hurt you Chris, that's the last thing I could ever want to do."

He cupped her face in the palm of his hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb, just as he had done that first day, after he'd kissed her. He looked intently into her eyes, searching for an answer to his questions.

"Do you love him?"

Without looking away, she nodded. "Yes."

"Then you have to be with him. I won't forgive you if you don't, I never want to stand in your way. I want you to be happy, Aggie, I wish that more than anything. If you love him, be with him. I would rather see you happy with someone else than alone. And I wouldn't want you to be unhappy with me, just for the sake of having you."

She was so overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity she fell forward and wrapped her arms around him, and after a surprised moment he returned her embrace. "You're a truly good man, Chris. I hope we can still be friends."

"Of course, you can always count on me; and I'll always love you, one way or another."

Gently she withdrew from his embrace. She watched him carefully, there was something else and she looked for some kind of sign of what it might be.

"Could I kiss you one last time? To say goodbye?"

There was such a naked vulnerability in his face that she couldn't deny him. Taking his face in both of her hands she pressed her lips to his and felt him respond immediately. The passion was still there, but he restrained it, and she could feel every ounce of his being preparing for their separation. It was as if he was saying goodbye without having to say anything at all.

When he finally released her she felt that both of them had changed, but she knew she would carry a little piece of Chris Larabee in her heart forever.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Here's another new chapter to enjoy over the weekend, Lovelies!**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY**

Ezra had many faults, most of which he was aware of, but there was one thing to be said in his favour - he was a gentleman through and through. When he rode out to Aggie's after a tense man to man conversation with Larabee, he brought with him a small bag of candy, a fine Indian tea of no little expense, and a bouquet of flowers he had picked along the way.

Aggie was leaned over the hand pump, drawing up water while a few chickens pecked around her feet. He didn't know whether she had purchased them or if they had simply come with the place, but either way he had to stop and look on in curiosity.

 _Mother, what would you say if you knew I was in love with a simple farm girl?_ He thought to himself, then shuddered as he considered the fact that Maude would probably try to very artfully weasel Agatha out of her remaining money, and her land, and leave her broken hearted, too - just because she could.

Aggie could sense that a horse and rider had come up behind her so she let the bucket rest on the hook of the pump built for that purpose and turned to see who had wandered in.

"Ezra, I wasn't expecting you."

"So long as I can be a pleasant surprise I hope my intrusion is acceptable?"

"Would you like coffee?" she asked, skirting around the subject she knew to be the reason he was there. Still, looking at him on the fine horse she'd always admired, she felt her heart skip in her chest.

"I've brought along a little gift of quality tea, if you'd prefer?"

She gestured towards the shack that served as a house and so he dismounted, leading Chaucer to the hitching post by the front porch.

He offered her the flowers he had brought and she took them, burying her nose in the blooms and inhaling the sweet fragrance. "They're beautiful," she said earnestly, bringing them inside with her. He offered up the bag of candy as well, watching her smile grow. He'd never known a woman without a sweet tooth.

The house really was an ugly little thing. There were cracks in the walls a man could put his hand through, and the roof was more missing shingle than protection. The steps leading up to the porch were rotten and she advised him to avoid the second one lest he fall through it. Every floorboard creaked and the entire building listed to one side as if it were tired of battling the elements and standing straight.

"You're going to need a new house," Ezra said hesitantly.

"Sooner rather than later," Aggie agreed ruefully. "I've been staying at Nettie's for now. It's alright for the chickens, though."

He couldn't help but laugh as one of the aforementioned birds came in and made itself at home, clucking and searching the floorboards for any stray insects before settling down to roost contentedly on a chair with a broken leg.

In the corner was a servicable little stove and a space Aggie had obviously cleaned and claimed for herself. A large wooden crate was upside down over top of a table, and all of the kitchen utensils were stored beneath.

"I know you're used to much finer things than this," she said, embarrased.

"Well, my dear," Ezra said clearing his throat. "I didn't come to see the house. I came to see you."

"I know," she replied, setting the kettle on the stove.

"I spoke to our friend Mr. Larabee, and I have apologized to him profusely. I've come here to offer an apology to you as well, if you'll take it."

He approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him. "Will you accept my apology?"

"Even if you hadn't given it," she answered, her mouth suddenly dry. He was so close to her she could smell his cologne and see her own reflection in his eyes.

Normally so confident and sure of himself, Ezra felt his pretention drain away all at once as he looked at the girl in front of him. He couldn't resist reaching out and touching her hair which was remarkably soft, the way new growth is, like a baby's.

"Green eyes are rare enough," he said softly. "But red hair as well, how could a man resist?"

A faint smile played at the corners of his lips, but Aggie didn't think he was joking. She could hardly breathe as she looked up into his green eyes. How long had she been in love with him? She didn't know, perhaps from the very first moment she'd seen him. From the moment he'd pulled her out from under the scorched beams. Was she foolish to fall in love with her saviour, or would they have fallen in love anyway? In passing on some street somewhere? In a restaurant? Waiting for a train? Perhaps in a shared stagecoach ride? Would fate have always brought them together somehow? She felt in that moment, watching his beautiful face so intently, that she had loved him for a hundred years, that there had never been a time that she didn't.

He leaned in and she knew his intentions immediately. His mouth smelled so sweetly of peppermint and whiskey that she wanted nothing more than to taste it, but instead she stopped him.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked, voice husky.

"No, nothing. I jsut want to be honest with you before we go any further; I want you to know that Chris kissed me, and that I kissed him."

Ezra was so relieved that she wasn't going to reject him or ask him to leave that he laughed aloud, and it was the most joyous sound she had ever heard. "My dear, silly, sweet girl, I don't care if you've kissed a hundred men," he said. "From now on, you'll only be kissing me."

With that he took her in his arms and pressed his lips against hers. Aggie was so overwhelmed by his passionate embrace she felt her legs weaken and she collapsed into him, praying that he wouldn't break the kiss.

She had been affected by Chris, that was certain, but it was nothing compared to how she felt with Ezra kissing her. The entire world had come down to a sharp point and focused on the place where their lips met. She felt physcially rattled and clung to him as if she was standing on a precipice and might fall. She could hardly breathe and she didn't care, becuase she would rather stop breathing than break away from him.

Agatha was not the first woman he'd kissed, not by a long shot, but Ezra felt what she felt intensely. It was unlike anything else he had ever experienced and he knew the way his heart beat frantically in his chest that Agatha Campbell was the one, the one he was so deeply in love with that he never wanted to stop what he was doing. He felt both as powerful and mighty as he ever had, and yet as weak and helpless as a newborn lamb in her embrace.

She moved against him and sparks lit up his vision. Hastily he put his hand behind her neck and depeened the kiss while at the same time using his other arm to lift her up onto the table. She pulled on his collar and ran her hands over his shoulders, stirring a desire deep within him. But then, at the very moment he was considering undoing the buttons of her dress, there was a loud _crack!_ and he only barely had time to swoop Aggie up off of the table before it broke in half and fell in two pieces on the floor, teapot and tin cups clattering around their feet.

Both of them seemed a bit bewildered for a moment at the sudden dissolution of their kiss and the crashing return to reality, but once they got their wits about them again they both laughed. Ezra set her gently down on her feet and straightened her dress, smiling at her.

"I believe the table is trying to rescue your modesty," he said lightheartedly.

Her face was so beautifully flushed and her eyes sparkled with love and amusment. "I think it must be," she agreed.

"I am going to build you a house," Ezra promised.

"And in the meantime?"

His tone turned serious. "I have no intention of making you my mistress. You're a good, honest woman and I have only love and respect for you. I hate to admit it but it's a good thing the table broke, before we became too carried away."

"Yes, I suppose that could happen," Aggie said, smoothing down her hair. "I don't think I can say no to you, Ezra Standish."

"I love you," Ezra said bluntly, It had come over him so suddenly he'd said it before he even realized he was going to. He changed his tone to a softer, more loving one and repeated it: "I love you, Agatha."

She had waited long enough to hear it and had no reason to withold her own feelings, so she answered: "I love you too, Ezra."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Nothing terribly exciting happens in this one, it's just setting the stage for the remainder of the story.**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

The stage was due any day now, and still everything was quiet. There had been no mention anywhere in the territory of the bloodthirsty gang and the citizenry of Four Corners was abnormally civilized.

Chris, Buck and Vin had ridden circles around every hole in the wall and unsavoury hideout they knew of, while Ezra, Josiah and Nathan had done the same, fanning out in separate directions day after day, leaving JD to look afte rthe town. They hadn't turned up anything of any use, no matter how many times they showed around the wanted poster.

"Either those boys have disappeared off the face of the earth, or folks are too scared to point 'em out," Vin commented.

"I guess we'll just have to wait for them to show themselves," Buck said. "I'm getting awful tired of chasing their shadows all over the damn countryside."

"I guess you're right," Chris said, but he hated leaving a job unfinished. Besides that, he was suspicious of the sudden drop off in their activities.

"What I want now is a hot bath and some feminine company," Buck added. "So I'm headin' back to town. You boys would be wise to come along."

"You don't have to stay," Ezra said, yawning.

He had just returned from a two day ride scouring the countryside for the Bartholomew Gang. He was dusty, dirty, unshaved and exhausted. He didn't even have the energy to have a bath and climb the stairs to his hotel room. Instead, he sat on the chair usually reserved for him outside of the saloon, tipped back on two legs, feet propped up on the banister. Aggie sat in the chair next to him, all four chair legs planted firmly on the ground.

"I know, but I enjoy your company," she said contentedly, settling her hand on his elevated knee.

"And I yours," Ezra agreed, laying his hand over hers.

"Still, I suppose I should get over to Nettie's before it's dark," she said regretfully after a few minutes.

"Yes, you should. I shall escort you to the livery."

"You're tired, stay here and rest, I can escort myself."

"Nonsense," he replied, "All that awaits is a lonely bed, I would prefer to spend as much time with you in this day as I can. One can never grow tired of the company of a beautiful young woman."

"Flatterer," she chided, but she was smiling.

"My Mother always told me that flattery will get you everywhere."

"She may have been right."

Together they walked arm in arm to where Gilroy stood patiently waiting the return journey home. He'd had a handful of oats and was munching hay when Aggie brought him out of the stall. He nickered at her and gently nosed her shoulder.

"Good man," Ezra said, rubbing the horse's face affectionately.

"Thus far he's been the most reliable man in my life," Aggie teased, rubbing down his glossy neck.

"I do intend to change that," Ezra said, taking her in his arms. He dropped his lips on hers and folded his arms around her back, supporting her as he leaned over her ever so slightly.

Cat calls and whistles erupted from the doorway where five of the Seven were horseback after another long day of riding the countryside and attending to various other duties that required their attention.

Aggie was acutely aware that Chris was among them and that he was not clapping and cheering with the others, but she couldn't help but smile with pure happiness at Ezra's touch. Still, she didn't want ot be the target of their teasing or a spectacle so she broke the kiss and pushed Ezra back. She smacked his cheek playfully, "Don't be fresh!" she exclaimed, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Ezra," Buck teased.

Chris eyed her steadily and tipped his hat when she left. "Have a good night, Aggie."

"Same to you, Chris."

A few buildings down, on the outskirts of town, a man Aggie didn't recognize leaned against a rough unpainted wall. She probably wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't chosen the moment she rode by to spit on the ground between them. She detested tobacco chewing and found it a disgusting habit, particularly in the rougher sort who couldn't even be bothered to spit discreetly.

"Ma'am," he said, touching the brim of his hat.

She didn't acknowledge him but even a blind man could see the malicious glint in his eye. _You've come to the wrong town if you've got bad intentions,_ she thought.

"Brother Ezra, step in. I'd like to talk to you," Josiah called from the doorway of his church as Ezra strolled past.

"What can I do for you?" Ezra asked. "If you're going to lecture me on the evils of games of chance I'm afraid you are far too late, my friend. Besides, the Lord hates a quitter."

Josiah smiled, clapping Ezra on the back with force. "No, I want to talk to you about your love life."

Ezra turned around and made for the door once again. "I have no desire to discuss such matters with anyone," he said quickly.

"Easy brother, nothing personal. I'm talking about your relationship with Miss Campbell."

"And that isn't personal?"

"I only want to know what your intentions are."

"My intentions?"

"Do you have the girl's best interests at heart?"

"I do."

"Well, I don't like to judge love, of all things love is judgeless. But you know what people will say about a man and a woman who aren't man and wife."

Ezra rubbed his hand over his chin and sighed, he could see the direction this conversation was taking, and he couldn't deny that the former preacher was right.

"Have you given any thought to your future?"

"Certainly I have, no one is more concerned for my future than myself but I don't know if the dear lady Campbell would wish to share such a future with me. Let us not mince words here and speak as men. I'm not a man of means and our job here is as dangerous as it is underpaid. I have no home to provide and no real prospects, I'm a gambler and, occasionally, a cheat."

Josiah nodded. "It's hard to contradict you there, Ezra. Do you feel that you're a good man?"

This question had been a raging inner conflict with Ezra for nearly all of his life. Traipsing across the country with Maude, running cons. He had been a god son but a bad person; later he had tried to be a decent person but had then become a bad son, according to her. He tried not to hurt anyone, indeed he was one of the least violetn men he knew, but he did chisel people out of their hard earned cash. He did sometimes take advantage of those that were vulnerable - a certain wagonload of prostitues sprang to mind - but on the other hand, he did have their best interests in mind.

Deep down he knew that he loved Aggie, but did he love her with a pure heart? Did he have a pure heart?

"No. I don't know."

"Could you be a good man?"

"I believe I could."

"Is Agatha a good woman?"

"There are none finer."

"How does Agatha feel?"

"I am quite certain that Agatha loves me."

"And you love her?"

"I can honestly say I've never loved anyone more."

Josiah laughed, rubbing his hands together he leaned against the pulpit. "Forgive me if I'm confused, but you love her, she loves you, she's a good woman and you believe you could be a good man?"

"Well... yes," Ezra said hesitantly.

"So marry. Spend your lives together, if she'll have you."

"I do... I think... you could be right."

"It's alright to be scared, son. How often we fear love, no matter how great it is, no matter how perfect. You must realize she has more to lose. If you continue this way it will only come to one thing and she'll be the one to suffer for it."

"I know."

"You must do what you feel is right," Josiah concluded. "It's no secret you're in love with her and I'd be proud to preside over your union."

"I'm certain we would be honoured, but she hasn't agreed yet."

Josiah took Ezra's hand in his own and pumped it up and down in a hearty shake. The look in his eyes reassured the gambling man that that wasn't going to be a concern of any note.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Here's another chapter for you all, it's been a while since I updated - sorry about that. The weather is too nice to be inside at the computer too much. Enjoy!**

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Did you see him?" Frank asked.

"Yep," Gil said, spitting between his boots. He smiled up at the leader of their gang. "Got even better news for ya."

"What's that?" Floyd piped up. He was sitting next to the fire, sharpening his knife; drawing it back and forth over the strop in an almost hypnotic rythym.

"It's gonna be real easy makin' him squirm."

"Oh?" Frank pressed.

"He's got himself a girl."

"Pretty girl?" Jack asked.

"Do it matter if she's pretty?" Frank demanded.

"I might want a piece of her myself!" Jack fired back.

"Sure, she's pretty enough," Gil said impatiently. "That ain't the point. The point is we can use her to get to him, ain't it?"

Frank nodded.

" _And_ I got the whole story over in the saloon," Gil continued. "Turns out he saved her life a while back, that's how come she's here. Saved her from a house fire, she got burnt pretty bad though."

"So?" Peter chimed in. He was the biggest of them all, physically, but when they called him dumb as a fence post they were being generous.

"So, we burn her twice," Frank said. "That _will_ make him squirm."

"Hell, Gil, you're getting to be pretty smart," Jack said with a rough laugh.

"When should we go, Frank?" Peter asked.

"They'll still be lookin' for us thinkin' we're robbin' the stage. We'll wait until it's passed. When is that?" he turned to Floyd.

"Day after tomorrow," he replied.

"Right. So the day _after_ the day after tomorrow, we'll find this girl."

"Already know where she is," Gil said proudly. "Not much for secrets in a small town."

Surprisingly, the ring had come from his Mother. He'd had it for years and was puzzled as to why he hadn't pawned it off or given it up in a card game so far. It was almost as if it had been waiting for this moment to be cherished again.

Maude told him when she gave it to him that it had been her mother's, his grandmother's, but he highly doubted it. Maude was not a sentimental woman and Ezra had never met his grandmother to confirm that she was a woman worth being sentimental over. In all likelihood, it was a grandmother's ring, just not _his_ grandmother's ring.

Still, it was pretty and a quality piece for a future bride. A wrap of ornately carved silver, a little tarnished and needing polishing, came up to four delicate arms that clasped a small beautifully cut ruby. He'd always had a fondness for rubies, red being one of his favourite colours and what he believed a perfect representation of love and affection.

Using a rag and a bottle of silver polish from the General Store, he massaged the metal until it gleamed bright and reflective. He held it up in front of the lantern in his room and turned it first one way and then the other so that it caught the light and he could check for any imprefections. There were none.

The question was, was he ready to give it to Aggie? It wasn't the matter of the ring, it was only symbolic, what he must be truly prepared to give to her was his heart, his life, his entire self. Any sane man would feel his knees begin to shake at the idea, just a little.

"Why on earth would you be gettin' married?" Buck pestered. "You're young, the best of your life is ahead of you."

"Has it occured to you I may want to spend those best years with a wife?" Ezra replied.

"But Ezra," Buck persisted. "Why buy a cow when you can get the milk for free?"

"That's enough," Chris barked, staring icily at his best friend. "This ain't one of your whores we're talking about."

Buck, offended, snapped back, "You're just sore that she picked Ezra over you."

Silence had descended on the group, everyone held their breath and wondered wether Buck was about to be punched in the mouth. Chris, however, pushed back his chair and left the room without saying a word.

No matter what anyone else said, although to be fair he hadn't encountered opposition from anyone else, he had decided that he would propose to Aggie. He believed in his heart that she would accept him but it wasn't without some trepidation that he came up to Nettie's front door. She wasn't at Old Man Granger's and she hadn't been in town, so this was the last place to look. The extended ride had given him time to think and his mind was even more made up than when he left but that didn't keep his hands from shaking ever so slightly and a sweat from breaking out around his collar.

The door banged open and Aggie stood there in a blue dress and white apron. She looked like she'd been working, her hair was damp around her face and curling, her cheeks flushed red.

"Ezra," she said warmly, coming down the porch steps. She removed his hat and put her lips to his for a hello kiss.

"Where are Nettie and Casey?" Ezra asked, pulling away while he still could.

"They've just gone into town, did you need them?"

"No, only you. What are you doing?"

"I just finished scrubbing the floor, Nettie hardly has the time and she's getting older. It isn't so easy to crawl around on your hands and knees when you reach her age. And Casey... well let's just say Casey can catch more than anyone frog gigging, and she can ride a spirited horse, but she's not much around the house."

"Quite true, JD has his hands full I'm sure."

Aggie sat on the edge of the porch, idly kicking her heels against the sides. A dog crawled out from underneath looking very irritated at having being disturbed during his midday nap. He gave a low woof then trotted off to the barn with a haughty air.

"Where did that jovial fellow come from?" Ezra asked.

"Oh, Nettie traded him for two pounds of butter last week. Don't ask how it came to be, I'm just as befuddled by it as you."

Putting the subject of the dog aside Ezra came and sat next to his intended on the edge of the porch and took her hand. "I've come to ask you something, Aggie," he said seriously.

"What?" she asked, noting the change in his voice. She looked him over steadily and could tell that something was working over in his mind.

"Do you believe that longevity of partnership is as important as the emotion of the partnership?"

Aggie looked at him blankly. "Do I what?"

"Perhaps that was a little overwrought," Ezra said thoughtfully.

"Are you alright?" she asked, putting her hand to his brow.

"Yes, I'm alright. What I should say is that I know that we haven't known each other for an extended period of time, and some couples may partake of courtship for a year or more before... but I would rather not wait because I am certain of my feelings for you, and I am certain that I could love you for the many years stretching ahead of us."

"Yes, I could as well," Aggie answered, confused. She had never seen him this jittery and unsure of himself.

Ezra stood and beckoned for Aggie to stand as well. "Are you taking me somewhere?" she questioned.

"Not physcially, my love, but in other ways I suppose I am."

Aggie had begun to grow impatient with his speech and behaviour. She put her hands on her hips and eyed him suspiciously. "What is going on here, Mr. Standish? You're not making sense. If you're trying to play a joke on me, it's not funny. What do you want?"

"Do you think you will always be such a fiesty woman?"

"Yes, I do think so."

Ezra smiled before reaching into his pocket for the ring he had stored there safely for the ride out. Placing it between thumb and forefinger he bent down on one knee and held the ring before him, offering it to Aggie.

"I have come to ask you to be my bride. I would be honoured, Agatha, if you would become Agatha Standish and take me as your husband."

Aggie's hands had moved from her hips to her mouth. She stared at him, wide eyed with disbelief.

"You wish to marry me?" she asked quietly.

"Indeed, I wish to marry you more than I have wished for anything as far back as I can recall. I know that you could likely find a wealthier man, and undoubtedly one with a larger propensity for honesty and less of a penchant for cards and liquor but..."

"Ezra," she said, interrupting his ramblinfg.

"Yes?" he said quickly, feeling that his entire life hung in the balance of her next words.

"I could find no better man than you, and even if I did I couldn't love him, because I could only ever love you."

For a moment there was silence, then; "You wouldn't play a cruel trick on an old Southern Boy would you?"

"No."

Ezra laughed, a quick loud hoot, then sprang to his feet and picked Aggie up around the waist, swinging her in circles until she was sure she would faint with dizziness. He set her down unsteadily and covered her face and lips with kisses. His joy was so contagious that Aggie laughed too, and cried tears of joy.

"Oh!" Ezra exclaimed, as if he had forgotten something.

For a minute Aggie thought he was going to temper the wonderful news with something she didn't want to hear, but he only took her hand and cleared his throat. "With this ring, I thee wed," he said softly, slipping the little band onto her finger.

"It's beautiful," Aggie breathed. "I love it."

Ezra leaned down and kissed her again, wrapping his fingers in her hair and rubbing his hand over the small of her back.

"Will it be soon? Will we marry soon, Ezra?"

"Just as soon as you like my sweet little flower."

Aggie pulled Ezra's face down to hers again and kissed him passionately. "Would it be vulgar of me to hope it will be _very_ soon?"

"No," Ezra answered, a little breathless.

It suddenly occured to Aggie that a wedding meant family, of which she had none, now. But what about Ezra? She didn't know if he was an orphan or if he had a mother and father out there somewhere. DId he have brothers or sisters? He'd never said. Perhaps there was a spinster aunt out there that waited anxiously for a monthly letter or visit.

"Ezra, do you have any family?" she asked, while he was still a little dazed.

His eyes cleared and he snapped back to reality, but he didn't seem very pleased. A pained look crossed his face and he groaned aloud. Maude.


	23. Chapter 23

**No reviews? I thought for sure the proposal would get some people excited ;)**

 **Here's another chapter for you all - enjoy!**

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

He would have to write his mother a letter and inform her he was engaged to be married. He wondered if he could time it so that by the time she received it he and Aggie would already be married and there would be nothing she could say or do about it. He certainly didn't want her at the ceremony and he had no desire to be waltzing with her when he could be dancing with his new bride.

"She's your mother and I want to meet her, Ezra."

"My dear, no one _wants_ to meet Maude. Those that do are unfortunate and generally compare the experience to facing down a rabid wolf."

"Well," Aggie said thoughtfully, running her fingers through his hair. "She did a fine job raising her son."

Ezra was about to laugh at her joke when he looked at her and realized that she wasn't joking. The honesty and admiration in her eyes made his heart fill with pride; she really did think he was a good man. But, if she was at all correct about that it was not because of Maude, but in spite of her.

He continued to fumble with the pen in his hand, capping and uncapping the ink well, brushing imaginary debris from the sheet of paper before him.

"You've faced down bloodthirsty outlaws, murderers and the like but writing your mother frightens you?"

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her; he wanted to tell her about the cons, how his mother had used him for her own benefit time and time again, how she had sometimes abandoned him for months at a time to pursue a man, money or anything else that caught her eye. In Aggie he had found a woman the opposite of Maude, someone he could love and trust and share all things with - but did he really want to divulge all of his life with Maude right now? It would upset her and certainly turn her against the woman, something that perhaps wasn't wise on the cusp of matrimony. There would be plenty of time to confide in her - his whole life he hoped. Leaning over he put his hand to the back of her head and pulled her towards him, dropping a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You'll understand when you meet her, she's worth being scared of."

"Ezra."

"Yes?"

"Write the letter."

He smiled, flashing her his signature gold tooth.

"Shall I give her a date?"

"Didn't we say two months? Vin says the weather will be fine for a party, Josiah will have the church finished, or very nearly and Nettie will have everything she needs for the meal."

Ezra groaned, laying a hand dramatically over his heart. "It is a cruel world that forces a man to wait so long to marry the love of his life."

"More sweet talk," Aggie said, finding herself thrilled none the less.

Ezra promised to compose and mail the letter before the end of the day, so Aggie took her leave and returned to old man Granger's . She and Ezra had already planned a new house and started to build. Right now it was only four framed in walls and a floor but already it felt like home to her. She could already picture the life she and Ezra would live there, how their future would unfold.

She knew that Ezra was on patrol and that he would spend the night in town at the hotel, as he always did if only to save her reputation. She had begun to care less and less as her love for him grew what others might say, but he was determined to do things properly. She knew he considered himself a gentleman and perhaps it was his own reputation he cared for as much as hers, regardless she was staying alone or in the company of Nettie and Casey for another two months.

Tonight, she would stay here in the little ramshackle hut and she would be most content, thinking of her future husband and future home.

Dusk had settled over the little valley by the time she had prepared her dinner and sat on the crooked porch steps to eat. She had just taken her first bite when she heard hoofbeats approaching from the west. There was more than one horse and she thought maybe a few of the Seven were passing by. She wondered if she would have enough to feed them, it seemed rude not to offer them something. At the very least, she had plenty of coffee to brew up.

When the horses came into sight she found that she didn't recognize any of the mounted men and she felt a surge of nervousness run through her. She tried to shake it off, strangers weren't uncommon in this part of the territory and most of them were friendly.

"Hello," she said cordially.

"Hello," the man at the front of the group said.

There were five of them and none of them looked particularly decent.

A moment of silence passed with only the horses swishing their tails, Aggie grew more and more leery as all five men stared at her.

"You Agatha?" the man asked.

"Yes, how did you?" she asked, taken aback.

"We're friends of your fancy man."

"You know Ezra?" she said, relieved.

"Oh sure, we know him. He arrested us for no good reason. Unfortunately for him the dumb shit let us go."

"Who are you?" Aggie asked, taking a sideways step, wondering if she could make it to the barn and onto Gilroy before they caught up to her, but she knew it was impossible. Besides, Gilroy was built for farm work and these horses had the lean, high bred look of horses with speed and endurance. Her blood had turned icy cold.

"Im Frank Bartholomew," Frank replied.

"I know you," Aggie gasped, recognizing the name immediately. These five men were the Bartholomew Gang, the same five men that the Seven had spent weeks combing the country for.

"Sure you do, darlin' - everybody does. But you're about to know us a whole lot better than most."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Here's another chapter for you all to enjoy. Sorry for the last cliffhanger (actually, I'm not sorry at all ;) hahah)

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was a lovely morning, something like that one all those months ago when Ezra had first happened upon Aggie and the fire. The sun was shining and already there was warmth in it. Ezra blew on his steaming cup of coffee and propped his boots up, one on top of the other, chair tipped back on two legs. If ever there was a picture of a man utterly content with his life, this was it.

Ezra was not a man to rise with the sun and already there were people milling on the streets and going about their business. It had been a quiet night and he had gotten a sound sleep on his feather bed. Today, he would go out and help Aggie work on the house. He was positively hopeless as a carpenter and he'd never been a lover of physical work, but Aggie seemed to have a natural affinity for both and he wanted nothing more than to please her, so he worked doggedly alongside her. And, certainly for Aggie's sake not Ezra's, Larabee had offered to lend a hand if they needed it.

He could hear a horse galloping up the street and he could see the billow of dust that nearly obscured the rider. He stood up and switched his coffee to his left hand. His spring loaded derringer was in the right and while he didn't expect trouble it never hurt to be too careful.

The horse was lathered with sweat and panting, and the man astride him had his face mostly concealed by a dirty and well used bandana. He seemed to know exactly what, or who, he was looking for, and as he drew in on his reins and practically slid up to the rail of the saloon on his horse's haunches, Ezra realized with shock that that person was himself.

He met the man's steely gaze with curiosity and caution. The man pulled the bandana down, reavealing a much cleaner portion of his face. He smiled at Ezra in a way that sent a chill down his spine. He wanted to draw his gun but he had no real cause.

"You Ezra Standish?" the man demanded.

"Yes, I-"

Suddenly, Ezra recognized the face as one off of the Wanted poster that hung on nearly every building in a sixty mile radius. He was looking at a member of the Bartholomew Gang, in the flesh.

"This is for you," he said, knowing he'd been identified. He grinned even wider, his eyes full of malice, and held out a little object between his thumb and forefinger, something shiny that caught the early morning light.

Reaching out and snatching it from his grasp, Ezra didn't even have time to look at it before the outlaw wheeled his horse around and galloped flat out the way he had come.

Looking down at the cold piece of metal in his hands there was no denying what it was, he turned it in shock and watched as the ruby continued to glint in the sun: it was Aggie's ring.

"You've picked the wrong town. You've picked the wrong person!" Aggie exclaimed adamantly. "I have friends here, when they find out you're here and what you're doing, they'll kill you. Every one of you."

She was sitting in the middle of the little shanty, tied to a rickety kitchen chair that rocked against the floor when she moved, owing to the one shortened leg and the uneven floor.

"We know about your friends, we've come a long way to see them," Frank replied.

"Why do you think we're here?" Floyd said, a viscious grin on his face. He was sharpening his knife again and the sound of it made Aggie break out in a sweat.

She had only been this scared once before in her life, when the beams of the house had collapsed on her and she felt the heat of the fire and the acrid smoke engulfing her. Then, she hadn't known that Ezra had come along and that she had any reason to hope, this time she had every reason in the world to believe he would and she tried to hold that thought steady in her mind as the one called Jack looked her lustily up and down.

"Lay a hand on me and you'll regret it," she spat.

"My, my aren't we fiery," Frank laughed. "I'll bet the fancy man loves you to death, don't he?"

The way he said "to death" made her skin crawl, so she said nothing.

"I've got news for you sweetheart, I've come here to kill that bastard and I plan on getting rid of you, too."

"It's seven against five, you haven't got a hope in hell," she said confidently, but inside her heart had dropped through the floor and she was sick with worry and fear.

They had approached queitly and were watching the house from a distance. Vin used his spyglass and informed them that there were two men wandering restlessly around the outside of the place, which meant there were three inside with Aggie.

"Is she still alive?" Ezra demanded, frantic. "Can you see her?"

"Can't see nothin' inside the house Ezra, but I'm sure she's alright."

"She's alive," Chris said firmly. "They need her to be, they can't use her against us if she's dead."

Buck, Josiah and JD had moved around to the opposite side of the shack and they were in a better position. There was more cover there and they could creep in closer, but they couldn't communicate with the others without being seen or heard so they had to lay low and wait for someone else to make the first move.

"I'm going down there," Ezra said finally.

"The hell you are," Chris said vehemently. "You'll be playing right into their hands. You'll get yourself killed and you'll get her killed, too."

"Well then Mr. Larabee, what do you propose?" Ezra demanded.

"It ought to be me," Vin piped up.

"It ought to be you, what?" Chris asked.

"Ezra's too wound up, you're the best shot and if Nathan gets hurt we're all riskin' a wound without a healer. I'll go down and start a friendly conversation."

All three men pondered over what he had said and agreed that he was right, but they would be close behind him and if he had any trouble he shuoldn't push his luck. With a nod, Vin straightened his hat, slipped his spyglass in his saddle bag and rode casually away, towards the two men clustered around Aggie's dilapidated front porch.

"Alright, fan out and stay out of sight," Chris said to Nathan and Ezra. "Don't go in guns blazing but if you have to take a shot, make it count."

"Howdy there," Vin called, riding up the the yard.

The two men looked back at him suspiciously, hands on the guns on their hips. "What do you want?" Gil demanded.

"Wondered if I could water my horse and rest for a bit."

"Not here you can't, get on up the trail."

From the corner of his eye, Vin saw JD's hat move in the bushes and knew he, Buck and Josiah were listening and ready to pounce if necessary. He wasn't concerned with these two, not with all the back up he had, he was concerned about what would happen in the house with Aggie.

"That ain't too friendly, boys. And anyway, this ain't your place, is it?"

Gil pulled his gun in a split second and cocked it, aiming at Vin's head.

"Don't matter who it belongs too, I said get."

Inside, Frank crossed the room to the window and peered out at the commotion in the yard. He smiled. "Look's like one's showed up, and I hear these men are like rodents - you find one and there's sure to be a nest full nearby."

Aggie glared at him. "You son of a bitch," she said, her voice like poison. She'd never said that before, her Mam would have smacked her silly if she used language like that, but it had sprung to her lips unbidden and she didn't regret it.

"Mind your mouth," Floyd said, and stopped sharpening his knife. Although the sound had frightened her the room seemed ominously quiet now without it.

"You best call Standish down here before you get shot, friend," Frank called from the house. He knew Vin could hear him.

"What do you want with Ezra?" Vin asked, playing for time.

"That's between me and him."

"Let the girl go and I'll get him."

Frank gave a harsh bark of a laugh. "Go get him now or the girl dies anyway."

He turned and looked at Gil and Jack. "Douse the place," he said, "then go out the back and shoot anyone you see, except Standish of course, we want him alive for this."

Aggie wondered what Frank meant by "douse the place" but when the two of them each pulled a gallon of kerosene from a sack on the floor she understood his meaning and began to panic. "Let me go, you don't want to do this. Please, it's not right, let me go and forget Ezra and ride out of here!"

The stench of the kerosene filled her nose as the tins were emptied around the place, all three men ignored her pleas. Her heart began to pound thunderously when Jack and Floyd left with guns drawn.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded of Frank.

"Your man Standish humiliated us and besides, no one tells us what to do or where to go and sure as hell no one throws us in a jail cell for some piss ass drunken brawl."

"You're willing to kill me over that?" she asked, truly mortified.

"I've killed for less," he answered, leaving her alone as he stepped out onto the front porch.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: This is a really short chapter, sorry everyone. But at least it's a chapter!**

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"Ezra Standish!" Frank bellowed.

Peter and Gil both had their guns drawn and Farnk knew that Floyd and Jack were around back, watching.

"Better get down here before I kill your friend!"

He waited patiently for a reply but none came. He was an impatient man at the best of times and he wanted to speed things along.

"You don't show yourself by the count of three, Gil here is going to blow this fella's brains out. Don't think you can shoot your way out of this, either." He pulled his own gun and pointed it at Vin. "Out of three, one of us is bound to get a shot off."

Within moments Ezra appeared a few hundred yards away, hands up with no gun - there was nothing else to be done. He would have to put himself on the line and trust that even if he was shot, the others would at least be able to get Aggie out.

"There you are," Frank said with a smile. "I've been waiting a long while to see you again, fancy man."

"Let Agatha go," Ezra said stonily, once he was in earshot.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Whatever qualms you have with me they have nothing to do with Miss Campbell and I see no reason to drag her into this."

"You make an interesting point," Frank said, holstering his gun. Gil and Peter kept their pistols trained on Vin and before Ezra knew it, someone else had stepped up behind him and put the barrel of a gun in the small of his back.

Frank raised his voice so that it echoed out around them. "I'm no fool, I know there are half a dozen men with guns on me, but I've got insurance."

He pulled a box of matches from his pocket and held them aloft. He resumed speaking in a normal voice to Ezra, who looked confused.

"See, this house is soaked through with kerosene, and your girl is tied up inside of it. I figure we'll burn her up, and then kill you. End of story, clean and simple."

Ezra felt the blood drain from his face. "You'll never get out of here alive," he said.

"Maybe, maybe not. But our luck's been pretty good so far, ain't it boys?"

Peter and Gil nodded vigorously, smiling.

Ezra's voice was shaky and he had to focus to keep it steady. "Nobody move," he called. "The house is soaked in kerosene and Bartholomew has a box of matches."

Aggie could hear the exchange going on outside and she could stay silent no longer. "He's going to kill me Ezra!" she screamed, breaking down into sobs. "He's going to burn me!"

She railed against a fate that she had already escaped once, enraged and in complete disbelief that this was how her life would end after all. She knew how terribly painful it was going to be, there could be no more agonizing a death. She wished that someone would shoot her before the flames touched her flesh again, she would rather die quickly than be consumed by fire.

A movement in the bushes announced the presence of Josiah, Buck and JD and sensing that his window of opportunity was shrinking, Frank lit a match in the blink of an eye and flicked it towards the shanty wall.

"Say _adios_ , fancy man."


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I felt bad about the short chapter and the long time between uploads so here's another chapter for you all**

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

All hell broke loose.

The Seven sprang out from all directions just as Aggie screamed in terror and the house exploded into flames like sagebrush in a lightening strike.

Vin and Ezra both fell down to the ground as shots rang out all around them. At least one of the Bartholomew Gang was shot dead immediately but Ezra didn't know which one it was; another Josiah picked up in a huge bear hug from behind and squeezed until he was nearly lifeless before dropping him into the dirt.

"Ezra! The house!" Chris shouted, trying to get a clear shot at Frank, who had dived for cover behind a fallen log.

From inside they could all hear Aggie screaming and the heat from the flames grew more intense each second.

"The house!" Chris repeated, "Get her out!"

But the front porch was already a wall of fire and the front door was inaccesible. Running around the east side he saw that it was alight as well. Suddenly, he remembered the loose boards that made up the wall on the other side and rushed to see if they were any better. They were smoldering and smoke billowed from between the cracks but they hadn't caught - yet.

"Ezra! Help!" he could hear from inside, broken by the sound of frantic coughing and a thumping noise he guessed was her trying to escape her bindings. "Please, get me out of here!" she shrieked.

"Chris!" Ezra screamed, motioning at the wall.

Chris knew immediately what he meant and ran towards it full force; bracing himself for impact Ezra leapt forward at the exact same moment as Chris and together they ploughed into the rickety wall, crashing through on the other side. Both were momentarily stunned but Aggie's desperate cries brought them around. Hauling back on the arms of the chair they dragged it back out through the broken wall without bothering to cut her loose. When they were far enough away from the fire Chris cut through the ropes securing her hands and feet and she collapsed onto the ground, panting, sooty and terrified - but alive.

"Don't go!" she shouted hoarsely as Ezra made to turn back to the fire.

"Stay here," Chris ordered, "I'll handle it."

Falling down on the ground next to Aggie, Ezra pulled her into his arms and cried tears of joy and relief that she was unharmed. Aggie clung to him and felt the familiar smoothness of his jacket against her hot skin and did the same. She had escaped a fiery death twice and twice Ezra had been the reason for it.

"Thank god for you," she cried into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tighter.

Ezra felt an intense stab of guilt, he may have saved her once before but she couldn't possibly think he had saved her this time when the entire ordeal came down to him and his job.

"Aggie, I have to go back. Stay here," he said, trying to regain his composure. He extricated himself from her embrace and stood, patting her shoulder.

"I'm not staying!" she cried, struggling to her feet.

Before he could say another word she was moving back into the fray.

The fire was still burning, there was really no point in trying to put it out if it meant the Bartholomew Gang would escape; and besides, the house was only good for burning down anyway.

Buck came back just as they approached, pulling one man behind him with his lariat and forcing another along before him with JD's help.

"Where is Mr. Larabee?" Ezra asked, "and the others?"

"There's one more," Buck said. "They're looking for him."

Ezra looked around and counted, yes there were only 4 men here.

Just then they could all hear Chris' voice and the belligerent voice of the gang's ring leader. Chris thumped the man on the back of the head with his pistol and brought him to his knees, announcing his presence and the fact that he had caught Frank.

Nobody made a move to stop Ezra as he followed the sound of Chris' voice, Aggie following close behind. JD could see that the hem of her dress was scorched and thought with shock how quickly she had almost been killed again. He wondered how he would cope if he nearly lost Casey twice, or worse yet, what if he _did_ lose her? It was too painful to think about. He suddenly had a whole new hatred for the Bartholomew Gang.

Frank sighed when he saw Aggie. "I see you've been saved. And I was so close to sending you up in smoke."

"You son of a bitch," Chris said, hitting him in the back of the head again.

"Stop that!" Frank said viciously, whipping his head around to face Chris. "Or I'll kill you."

"No, you won't," Ezra said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Oh?" Frank asked, amused.

Aggie wondered what could be so terribly wrong with a man inside that he would want to kill a woman he'd never met to get revenge on a man who hadn't really harmed him. One of his men had been shot dead but he didn't seem concerned by it and didn't bother to ask about the others.

"No, because I'm going to kill you," Ezra replied.

"Ezra," Chris said, a warning note in his voice.

"You're going to kill me?" Frank asked, chuckling. "Even if you had the guts, you don't even have a gun. Just go home with your burnt whore and I won't have to kill _you_."

Ezra seethed with rage, his face flushed red and he grit his teeth. "This animal needs to be put down," he said.

In a split second Ezra had sprung the derringer from his sleeve and into the palm of his hand, "Say _adios_ ," he intoned violently.

Aggie screamed and turned away as a single shot echoed through the air; Frank still had a look of arrogant amusement on his face as the bullet pierced a perfect, vibrant red hole between his eyes. He fell over backwards at Chris' feet and Chris swore vehemently.

"How are you going to explain that to the Judge, Ezra!" he demanded.

"The Poster said 'Dead or Alive'," he answered.

Aggie was shaking and her screaming had subsided to utter silence. Ezra turned her around and shielded her with his arms, propelling her away from the carnage.

"I'll take you home with me, Agatha. Is that suitable to you?"

She nodded, covering her face with her trembling hands.

Vin was moving towards them, leading the horses. He passed a set of reins off to Ezra and looked Aggie over. "You alright?" he asked.

She nodded again, not entirely sure how "all right" she was, but at least she was still standing. Of course, Vin didn't know that Ezra had just removed the better part of Frank's skull while she'd stood by, either.

"I'm taking Miss Campbell back to town," Ezra explained. "Mr. Larabee may need your help, bringing the corpses in and those remaining animals to justice."

"Sure thing," Vin answered, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat and nodding at Aggie.

"Let's go, my dear," Ezra said softly, helping her up into the saddle before climbing up behind her. Taking the reins in both hands his arms created a cradle around her waist, supporting her. Aggie leaned back against him, realizing how much they both smelled like soot and smoke now that they were further away from the fire. There was another smell she couldn't quite make out that clung to Ezra's coat, as he nudged Chaucer forward towards town she realized that it was gunsmoke and powder.

"You shot that man," she said, quietly, when they were about halfway to town. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder and she finally felt able to speak again.

Ezra remained silent a moment and Aggie could tell that he was thinking. "I'm sorry. Not sorry that I shot him, but sorry that you were there to witness it. It was insensitive, to say the least. I have never before in my life," he leaned down and rested his cheek against her head so that she could feel his warm breath on her, "been so angry with anyone. I'm a peaceable man, I hope you know that, and I am not inclined to violence, but if I'd let that man live after what he tried to do to you... I don't think I ever would have forgiven myself for it. I know I'd never sleep soundly if he were still alive. You do understand that, don't you?"

"I understand. I've just never seen a man killed before," she said, her voice trembling. "I'd nearly burned to death once, but I'd never seen a man killed."

Ezra took the reins in one hand and used his free hand to hold Aggie's. His hand was blissfully cool on her skin and his touch calmed her, but it didn't erase what she had seen.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Here's another chapter for you, lovelies. Enjoy and let me know what you think.**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

Ezra ordered a tub brought up to his room and had two of the chinese boys from the laundry pack buckets of warm water up the stairs to fill it. Aggie sat on the bed, wrapped in Ezra's coat for comfort, watching them as they came and went. She admired the way they worked, hard and without complaint. They each had a yoke that crossed their shoulders with a bucket swinging from a rope on each side. She couldn't imagine making all those trips up and down the street and the stairs, let alone carrying the buckets of water. Ezra passed each of them a shiny coin when the bathtub was filled and they both smiled and nodded first at him and then at her. She smiled back, thinking it was the least she could do; Mam had told her it was impolite not to smile back at someone who smiled at you first.

Ezra took a small glass bottle from his chest of drawers and uncorked it. He shook it over the steaming water and several drops fell in. The sweet smell of lavender filled the room and Aggie breathed it in deeply, enjoying the calm it produced.

"Should I go downstairs now?" Aggie asked when Ezra sat down next to her and kicked off his boots.

He looked at her, confused. "Why?"

"So you can bathe."

Ezra chuckled and took his hat off, throwing it so that it settled perfectly on the top of the coat rack near the door. "My dear girl, the bath is for you. I have told you that I am a gentleman first, have I not?"

"It would be terribly nice to clean up," Aggie said, looking at the clear water rippling against the sides of the tin bath.

Ezra stood up and touched her shoulder gently. "There's an unused room next door, I'll go in there and clean up. Just let me know when you've finished, I'm sure we'll be able to find you something to wear. A new dress, perhaps? We shall consider it a part of your trousseau."

He stood to leave but Aggie snapped her hand out and grasped his sleeve. "Ezra, don't go."

He looked at her, then looked at the bath. "My dear it isn't that I don't _want_ to stay. As a matter of fact I can't think of anything I'd like more, but-"

"Ezra, stay. You're going to be my husband. I don't give a damn what anyone thinks, we each of us could have died today. All I want is to lay in this tub of sweet smelling water with you and wash the whole day away."

She worried he was going to leave anyway when he walked over to the door, but instead he closed and locked it. In response, she stood and shed his coat, hanging it from the bedpost. She circled around the tub and met him near the door. He was unbuttoning the buttons on his cuffs, she undid the top button of his shirt, then moved down to the others.

"If you'd rather, I could remain clothed," he said, and his voice was hoarse.

"I'd rather you didn't," Aggie answered softly, undoing the final button, her fingers moving quickly. They were mother of pearl, she'd never seen anything so fine on a man's shirt before. He slipped his arms through his suspenders and pushed them off his shoulders, leaving her free to remove his shirt, which she did. She traced a line over his collarbone with her finger and then down his chest. Beneath the skin she could feel the outline of his muscles, and for a gambling man he certainly wasn't soft. She knew his arms were strong but she'd never seen them exposed, and she revelled in the joy of running her hands up and down them, from the smooth skin of his shoulders to the hair of his forearms.

"You're the handsomest man I've ever seen," she breathed.

He kissed her tenderly then began to undo the buttons down the front of her dress. "I don't mean to rush, but the water will chill," he said softly, as if to himself.

She waited for him to finish with the buttons, then let her dress fall unimpeded to the floor. Her corset was a loose and practical kind, and her bloomers were kept in place with a drawstring she tied in the front. She turned and lifted her hair so that Ezra could unfasten her stays, which he did with alacrity. While he did, she untied the string on her undergarments and then turned to face him once again. In a few moments she would be standing naked before him and she was suddenly filled with a choking panic. She clamped her arms to her sides, holding her corset in place and took a step back.

Ezra could see the look on her face and he registered the change in her emotions.

"I can still leave. It's not too late," he said, "But please, I beg of you, don't look at me like you're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid of what you'll do," she answered truthfully.

"I'm not that kind of man, I swear it. I'm sure your Mother told you not to give anything up to smooth talking men, but I love you and I will marry you Agatha whether you choose to disrobe or not."

Aggie could see the pained look on his face and knew he wasn't lying.

"Oh, Ezra, I'm not afraid of that. It's not all pretty, not all of me. I've got burns, I still have scars. I'll always have scars, I worry that you'll see me and wonder why you'd want me over any other girl."

Ezra stepped forward and closed the gap between them again. He clasped her arms in his hands and gently pulled them away from her body. She looked up into his green eyes and felt her undergarments fall away from her and land in a heap at her feet.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: You've all been very patient, here's a steamy scene I think you've all wanted and certainly deserve, almost as much as Aggie and Ezra do ;)**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

He guided her in the direction of the tub and she peeled her stockings off before stepping in, testing the water with her toe first to make sure it wasn't too hot. It was perfect, and she sank into it until the water touched her chin. Her hair floated around her shoulders like a wreath and she closed her eyes, a termor of joy running through her.

"This is Heaven," she said.

"Indeed it is," Ezra agreed, kissing the top of her head.

He stripped off his remaining clothes and knelt down behind the tub, gathering her hair into a bundle and kissing her neck. "Is it all right if I get in?" he asked.

She nodded.

"You've never seen a man before, have you?"

She opened her eyes and turned around so that she could see his face. "No, but I would so love to see my husband."

She sat up and moved forward so that he could sit behind her. His legs brushed against hers and he folded his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. She could feel the warmth and the stiffness of him against her back. She took a deep breath and relaxed into him.

"This is the most wonderful moment of my life," she said aloud.

Behind her, Ezra buried his face in her hair and agreed.

Using a bar of soap as sweetly scented as the water, Ezra created a lather between his hands and ran his hands first over her shoulders and back and then down to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands as tenderly as if he were holding a delicate baby bird, when his palms moved against her skin she felt a thrill that resonated deep within her in a way she'd never felt before. When he'd washed her head to toe she turned around in the water to face him and took the soap. Her hair was wet now, and hung in strands a little ways down her back.

She lathered the soap between her hands, just as he had done and massaged his skin, beginning with his shoulders and working her way down his chest. She slipped her hands beneath the water and trailed them down his belly, uncertainly. He put a hand on hers and guided it downwards, stopping just shy of where he so desperately ached to be touched.

"You don't have to," he said, caressing her cheek with his free hand.

She leaned forward and kissed him, freeing her hand from his and moving down to wrap her fingers around him. He jumped at her touch and gasped into her kiss. His hand shot up out of the water and using both he pulled her towards him until her body was flush with his. They stayed that way until the water became uncomfortably cool and they had to get out, though neither of them wanted to.

He dried the water from her skin and she dried the water from his. She was comfortable with him now, he'd seen every inch of her and hadn't recoiled from any part of it. She certainly found nothing to reject on him, her only desire was to explore his body further, to kiss and feel all of him from top to bottom.

He was the first to break their embrace and she didn't stop him. They stood there, still unclothed, panting from an inner heat.

"We should get dressed, darling," Ezra whispered. His voice had all but disappeared.

Aggie watched him, looked first at his eyes, then his cheekbones, his lips. Her eyes travelled down his body and then back up again, until she was looking him in the eyes once more. In her mind a hundred thoughts were racing. There were two voices battling to be heard - one was telling her to do what she should do, but the other was lobbying just as hard for her to do what she wanted to do.

"I love you, I'm so in love with you I never want to be without you," she told him.

"I love you too, Aggie girl."

"I don't care if we're married or not, Ezra. I want to be with you the way a woman is with a man. Here. Now."

He was fighting to restrain himself, he wondered if he possessed the strength to refuse such an offer, to refuse what he had desired since he'd first come to love her. But he had to try, for her sake.

"I'll still love you and I'll still marry you if you turn me away this second," he assured her. "Don't think - "

"I want you to make love to me," she said firmly. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at him lustily, with certainty in her eyes.

Overtaken by passion Ezra knew his one attempt at refusal was all there would be. He kissed her hungrily, and gently leaned her backwards so that she lay down on the downy softness of his feather bed. Hooking an arm under her back he moved her up so that her head rested on the pillows, she sighed contentedly which only served to make him desire her more.

She reached up and entwined her hands in his hair, bringing their faces together as closely as they could possibly get. She kissed him like she had only a moment left to live and this was exactly how she wanted to spend it. He flicked his tongue over her lips and she parted them, cautiously reaching her own tongue out to taste his lips. He maneuvered himself so that he was laying on top of her, forearms on either side of her shoulders. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, gripping his buttocks with her hands. He moaned with pleasure at the sparks her touch sent skimmering out over his skin.

He'd had his fair share of women, but he had never been so enamoured by one before. He looked down at his betrothed on his pillow and felt his heart beat so frantically in his chest it almost frightened him. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, to his eyes, and he doubted he would have felt any luckier if an angel had graced him with her presence.

Reaching down between them he gently ran a finger over the folds of her womanhood and her eyes flew open, momentarily alarmed.

"I won't do anything you don't want," he assured her.

"I do want it, I want you," she answered. "I've just... It was a surprise, that's all. I didn't expect you to touch me."

She held his gaze while he touched her again, a little firmer this time. Instinctively she moved her legs further apart, welcoming him into her most intimate space. He could tell that she was ready, and he had never been more ready in his life, but he didn't want to rush her.

He moved so that he was kneeling between her legs, his manhood so erect it touched his belly. A heat radiated from her skin that made his own skin glow. She took him gently in her hand and ran a finger over the smooth skin of his shaft, marvelling at the feel of it, so hard and yet so soft. Bringing her hand down she used him to touch herself and both felt a shudder of pleasure pass through them. She held him there, positioned for entry.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

She nodded, too overcome for words.

He knew that she had never been with a man before and that he must be tender with her. Slowly, he began to push forward until the tip of him was engulfed inside of her. She was incredibly tight and he had to keep from plunging in all the way when she gasped and lifted her hips up slightly to meet him. Inching his way in he came to the wall that obstructed him. He entwined his fingers with hers and laid their hands on the pillow, over her head. He leaned down and kissed her, sharply nipping her lips with his teeth when he finally pushed in all the way, opening her up fully.

She gave a pained cry and looked at him for a moment as if he had betrayed her, but he stayed absolutely still and stroked her hair until the feeling passed and the look had disappeared.

"It's always that way the first time," he said to her. "If it hurts now, I'll stop."

She traced the outline of his cheek and kissed him again, waiting for the pain to subside. When it had a delicious pleasure took its place and she couldn't imagine asking him to stop. Instead, she hooked her ankles around the small of his back and pulled him in as deeply as he could go. She loosened her grip for him to withdraw and then pulled him in again. They continued this way until Ezra was certain he would explode if it went on a moment longer. Pulling them both upright into a sitting position he attacked her neck with his lips and she ground against him with increasingly passionate cries.

"I can't take much more," he whispered to her, groaning as the coiling sensation in his belly grew more intense by the moment.

Her eyes were shining and her skin was flushed red. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, using her feet to propel herself backwards and pull him back down on top of her. The sudden force of him entering her sent waves of pleasure cascading through her body and she didn't know what to do, she had never experienced anything like it, so she wrapped her legs around him and spasmed in his arms, saying his name over and over. Ezra felt himself approaching the edge and then plummeting down into release, still kissing her.

Turning over onto this side he pulled her into his arms. She felt a sudden emptiness when he was no longer inside her, so she hooked her arm under his arm and snaked her leg over his. Their rough breathing subsided and they lay there in each other's arms, silent, because nothing needed to be said.

Ezra could feel her trembling, skin quivering against him. "Are you alright?" he asked softly after a half hour had passed.

"I'm more than alright, I'm wonderful. It was perfect, wasn't it?"

"Indeed it was," Ezra answered, breathing a sigh of contentment. "Would you like to preserve your honour and have me leave now?"

"Don't you dare," Aggie answered, putting a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. "All I want is to fall asleep here and wake up with you in the morning."

"Only if you're sure," he said.

"Well, you could do one thing for me."

He looked at her, his eyes agreeing to anything. Aggie smiled lovingly at him and caught his lips in hers, pulling him over on top of her once again.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Aggie meets Maude...**

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

"Oh, Lord have mercy," Ezra said, seizing Aggie's arm and looping it through his own. He patted the hand she rested on the inside of his elbow, "Have courage, my dear, have courage."

"Ezra, shush, she's your Mother," Aggie admonished.

"We only have her word for that," Ezra replied.

The stagecoach came to a halt and a pounding sounded almost immediately on the door from inside.

"Driver, let me out of here this instant!" Maude called.

Ezra sprang forward off of the boardwalk and reached for the coach door, flinging it open.

"There's my darling son!" Maude cried, her tone of voice changing instantly.

Offering her his hand, Ezra helped Maude down out of the stagecoach and offered to take her bags. He regretted it when she pointed out six heavy looking cases and satchels the second driver was throwing off the top of the stage.

"I'll take one, Ezra," Aggie offered.

Maude put her hands to her chest and exclaimed, "And is this the darling girl who stole my little boy's heart?"

"Easy, Mother, don't go yapping like a terrier or you'll frighten her off."

"I'm Agatha. Agatha Campbell," Aggie answered, "Ezra has told me all about you."

"And just what has Ezra told you?" Maude demanded. "Oh well, never mind. Come here, come here, let me look at you."

Aggie stepped forward and allowed Maude to take her face in her hands and turn her this way and that, stroking a hand over her red hair and then checking the ring on her finger, which Ezra had given back to her on their night in the hotel. "The ring, dear boy, you used your Grandmama's ring," Maude fairly squealed.

Aggie could do little but stare at the woman, she'd never met anyone like her. Her Mam had been a subdued sort of woman. Well, for a Scottish woman, anyway. Maude was up and down and all over like a team of runaway horses and, if Aggie were being completely honest, a little intimidating.

"Mother, are you carrying stones in here again? I am not carrying bricks up to the second storey of the - Mother! Please don't maul my bride to be like an angry bear. Aggie, I do apologize," Ezra prattled on, growing increasingly more flustered by the moment.

"Nonsense, we're practically Mother and Daughter, aren't we, dear?" Maude said to Aggie.

Aggie was relieved when Ezra pushed two cases into her arms and directed her towards the hotel.

After hauling all six pieces of Maude's luggage up the stairs to the room next to Ezra's, Aggie suggested they have lemonade downstairs.

"What a _sweet_ girl," Maude said, clapsing her hands together. "Lemonade, as if there isn't a bar full of whiskey to be had." She reached out and pinched Aggie's cheek which startled her.

"Would you mind giving me and my son a moment alone? After all, you'll be married the day after tomorrow and he will be more your husband than he is my son."

"Oh," Aggie said, somewhat deflated. Maude was certainly an exhausting person to converse with. "Well, I could go over to The Clarion, or I could go home if you'd like to spend the evening just the two of you."

Aggie had only spent one night in the hotel with Ezra; maintaing some sense of decorum she had returned to Nettie and Casey's the next morning and hadn't come back to his room until now. She was grateful that Nettie had taken her in again since even the humble, dirty little shack she'd called her own for a brief while was gone now, but she would be happy to marry and settle into a home with Ezra.

"I'm sure there's plenty for you to do, no need to go home yet," Maude said, ushering her out the door.

Ezra shot an aplogetic glance in Aggie's directions buyt she merely shrugged and let him know it was alright, no matter how eccentric his mother was she would tolerate it. As she had said to him, quite pointedly, "Better any mother than no mother at all."

She certainly wished her Mam could have seen her wed and happy, but if wishes were horses than beggars would ride - so she would have to make do with Maude.

"Now, Ezra, fill me in," Maude said once she had closed the door on Aggie and was certain she had descended the stairs. She flashed a genuine grin at her son that made him think she was truly pleased with him.

Ezra had given her a brief description of he and Aggie's meeting and courtship in the letter he had sent, but he had time now to tell her everything. As he neared the day of his proposal in his retelling, Maude began to get impatient.

"But what about the _money_ , Ezra? Where's the con?"

He was confused for a moment. Did she mean the three hundred dollars Aggie had inherited? He hadn't mentioned it specifically, just as he had left out the tense love triangle between Aggie, himself and Mr. Larabee.

"What money? To what con are you referring Mother?"

Maude rolled her eyes, huffing an exasperated breath. "The money, the Campbell money."

"I'm sure I have no idea what money you mean."

"I have been talking to all of my contacts back east, you can't fool me son. I know what you're up to and I must say I'm impressed by your committment, but what a grand scheme."

Ezra narrowed his eyes at his mother, feeling distinctly that they were on separate pages.

"I am aware that Miss Campbell, your bride to be, is of some relation to Joshua Campbell, the coal magnate and he is sitting on a _fortune_."

"I am certain the only connection between them is a surname, Mother. Agatha has no relation to anyone this side of the Atlantic Ocean."

"What is your reason for hiding this from me, Ezra? Don't you think I'm proud of you?"

"I'm not hiding anything from you, Mother," Ezra said. I'm sorry to disappoint you but Aggie has very little money and certainly not the fortune of a coal magnate."

Maude deflated like a baloon stuck with a pin. "Well then what on _earth_ are you doing marrying her?! Tell me you have something worked out to your benefit."

Ezra felt a sinking feeling in his chest. So, Maude had only been pleased because she thought he was running a con, that he was marrying for fortune just as she had done time and time again.

"I'm marrying Agatha for love, Mother, nothing more."

"Sweet Jesus, didn't I raise you better than that?" Maude wailed. "Than to marry for _love_? What good is love? You can't eat it, sell it or spend it!"

All of his life, this was the mother he'd had to rely on. Always searching for an angle, always wanting to know how she could manipulate and use people to her own advantage. If she couldn't beg, borrow or steal something from someone, she didn't see the point in any interaction at all, let alone a lasting one.

Ezra had known, more or less, that she had always felt the same way about him. She hadn't truly wanted children but he had come along anyway and spoiled her plans, until she discovered he could be useful running one con or another. When he wasn't, she dropped him off somewhere along the way and returned only when she felt it was necessary. He mostly tolerated it although it had shaped his childhood into something cold and hurtful, and it had caused him a turbulent and traumatized manhood. But now, to hear her nattering on at him, insistent that he was about to make the mistake of his life, wounded him deeply.

"Mother, enough."

"Ezra, listen to me. Soon this infatuation will end and then where you will be? Tied down to a simple country girl with no future and no chance of doing any better."

"I said enough!" he roared.

Maude sat there, open mouthed with surprise. Her quiet, gentle boy never spoke to her that way; as a matter of fact no one spoke to her that way and she wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

"I won't have you saying anything, _anything_ at all about Aggie, and you will not spoil this for us. I love Agatha and my future is with her. I may live as a pauper with her for the rest of my life but I'll never be as poor as you. You don't know how to love, you never have, not truly. Not even your own son."

"You can't marry her-"

"I am marrying her, the day after tomorrow. You can either be happy for us or you can leave. I will never do better than Agatha, not in one hundred years could I find someone to love even half as much."

"You have more than yourself to think about, consider what your father would want!"

It was a low blow, bringing up his father. He'd never even met the man, but Maude had a way of mentinoing him whenever she felt she was losing an argument with her son.

"I'm sure my Father, if he was worth anything at all, would have been overjoyed to know his son was marrying the woman he loved. After all, he married you didn't he?"

He narrowed his eyes at her pointedly, suddenly not caring if she left and he never saw her again. All the years he had spent loving her in spite of himself, because she was his mother, desperate for her attention and affection, suddenly disappeared. He had a woman who was worth his love, and he didn't have to chase it.

"Your father," she began to reply, but he got up and went to the door.

"Be happy or be on the next stage." he said with an air of complete finality.

Aggie knew by the very set of Ezra's body that he was agitated, angry even, when he came into the Clarion office.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, cautiously.

"No, nothing," Ezra answered, giving her a tender kiss.

She knew he was lying, but she also suspected why, so she said nothing and kissed him back.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: This is the final chapter for this story, I hope it has come to a satisfying end for all of you. Who knows, maybe there will be a sequel if there's enough interest and the Muse strikes me once again. Thanks so much for all of the reviews and encouragement. It's been fun traveling this road with Aggie and Ezra!**

Maude sat tersely in the front row of the church, hands primly folded in her lap, a somewhat dour expression on her face. It wasn't quite time yet, but the church had begun to fill up with various townspeople of Four Corners. The Seven were gathered, attending to the tasks assigned to them.

Buck came up to Maude and laid his hand on her arm. "Now, a woman as pretty as you Maude ought to smile and brighten up the room. You must be just overcome with joy to see your son gettin' married. I'm sure you wouldn't want nothin' to spoil this special day."

He was smiling and his tone was light, but the look in his eyes and his firm, insistent grip on her arm let Maude know that he was going to brook no nonsense and allow her to put a damper on the festivities.

Maude shook her arm loose from his hand and brushed imaginary dirt off her sleeve. She held his gaze for a moment then smiled at him, her con job charm turned on full force.

"Well of _course_ Mr. Wilmington, I am just beside myself with happiness."

Buck winked and went to the back of the church where his job was to watch for Ezra's arrival. Chris raised his brows at him, inclinging his head towards Maude.

"I never could stand a sourpuss at a wedding," he said by way of explanation.

"If Maude's going to be a sourpuss I'll escort her out myself," JD said, puffing his chest out like a proud rooster. "Casey's so excited about today, I don't want anything to go wrong."

Casey was Aggie's Matron of Honour and had even been convinced to wear a dress. She had been antsy all week and chased JD out of the hotel where the ladies were dressing Aggie and themselves.

"But I brought the flowers!" he protested as she propelled him backwards with her hands on his chest.

"Oh. Well give 'em here and then _get_ ," she ordered.

He hadn't even seen her in a dress yet, now he would have to wait to see her with everyone else.

"Don't bite off more than you can chew, son," Chris said, suppressing a smile.

"Are you nervous?" Mary asked, using a hot iron to twist a strand of Aggie's auburn hair into a curl. "I was nervous when I got married."

"A little, but I'm sure I'm making the right decision."

"I would never have thought of Ezra as the marrying kind, but he loves you so much I can't imagine any other way for you two. He's changed since you came along, and he's going to keep going until he's a new man. I do believe he'll be a perfect husband to you, Aggie."

"I always liked Ezra," Casey said, fondling the lace at Aggie's collar. "But I always knew he was a bit of a scoundrel. Now he's so sweet and kind, JD says he talks about you all the time and he hasn't even been up playing cards and drinking all night like he did before."

"Well, I don't mean to change him, he's already a good man. But fewer card games and less liquour suits me fine," Aggie replied.

Nettie came bustling in, dressed in a long navy blue skirt and a white blouse that made her look quite elegant.

"Are you soon finished?" she asked. "It's getting close to the time."

Mary did a few more adjustments of Aggie's hair, then set the rod down on a metal tray on the dressing table and stood back. Casey pulled Aggie's chair back and helped her get to her feet. All three women smiled brilliantly; Nettie put her hand to her mouth and for a moment tears of pride and joy shone in her eyes, Mary clasped her hands together and admired her friend. Casey gasped, then laughed. "You look so beautiful!" she exclaimed.

Nettie wiped delicately at her eyes and then became her busy, practical self again. "I'm going to check and make sure everyone's in the church and when I come back you'd better be ready to go."

"I will be," Aggie assured her.

Nettie came down the street towards Josiah's church, Buck waved his hat at her from the door and gave her a thumbs up, meaning Ezra had arrived and was in his place at the head of the church. She waved to acknowledge that she had seen him then hurried back to the hotel.

"Alright girls, lets go. Watch your dresses, dears we dont want them dirtied or torn," she instructed as she herded them, talking and giggling, down the stairs and then out into the street.

There came the sound of a horse in harness up the street and they all turned to look at who it might be. Chris was there, sitting on a pretty little buggy seat. He wore a crisp white shirt and a Texas tie around his collar, he had forgone his hat but wore his customary black pants.

He reined in the horse and jumped down off the seat, little puffs of dust rising up around his boots. He stood looking at Aggie but she couldn't tell what he was thinking, he kept his emotions too guarded. But after a short moment he walked towards the group of women and extended his hand to Aggie.

"You won't arrive on foot if I have anything to say about it," he said.

"It's only a short ways, Chris," she said softly.

He left his hand out, insistent, until she gathered her skirts together in one hand and placed her other in his. She allowed him to lead her to the buggy and help her inside, after which everyone else felt comfortable doing the same.

"Sure is pretty in here," Casey said, running her finger over the black leather seats and the red velvet walls. "Wonder where he found it."

Mary was silent, she knew that Chris had feelings for Aggie and that for a while they had nearly been together, but she wasn't jealous or bitter. Aggie was her friend and she wouldn't allow herself to be; whatever was meant to be, would be. She had strong feelings for Chris Larabee, but she wouldn't push the situation to a level he was uncomfortable with. She told herself she would be fortunate to have him for a husband, if he could still be so kind and considerate to a woman who had turned him down and was now marrying a man he essentially didn't like.

It was scarcely a minute with the horse plodding down the street before they reached the church. Chris pulled up close to the door and helped Aggie down from the buggy onto the ground. He smiled at her, a little sadly, and took her hand in his own again. "You're pretty as a picture," he said, "Ezra is a lucky man."

Aggie flushed slightly and smiled at him. She didn't pull away when he lifted his hand and kissed its back ever so softly before directing her towards the church doorway.

Buck stepped out, grinning from ear to ear. "I've got a surprise for you," he said.

"Really, Buck, on the day of my wedding?" Aggie chided good naturedly.

"Not that kind of surprise," he said waggling his eyebrows. "There's someone here to see you."

Aggie couldn't imagine who on earth would turn up at her wedding - everyone she knew was either gathered around her or inside. "Who?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

In reply, Buck stepped aside and clapped his hands in glee. From the doorway of the church emerged a man with dark skin and an enormous smile.

"Ben!" Aggie fairly shouted, forgetting her dress she let it fall onto the ground and ran into her old friend's arms.

"Agatha," he boomed, his voice filled with emotion. He embraced her and rocked her side to side, almost lifting her off the ground. He released her and looked her over, top to bottom.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, next to your Mama," he said. "She would be so proud of you, and happy. I'm happy for you, although I thought at first I might be seeing you marry this fella," he said under his breath, gesturing towards Chris.

"It could have come to pass, but Ezra has my heart," she said. "My God it's good to see you," she said. "How did you know? What are you doing her?"

"Your betrothed in there sent me a telegram and asked me to come. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I'd like to ask you if I could walk you down the aisle?"

"That would make me happier than you can imagine," Aggie said.

"Well you'd best get on with it," Nettie said. She ushered Chris and Buck back inside and then Mary and Casey before going in herself.

Inside, the borrowed organ started up the bride's tune and suddenly the moment was upon them, they had to go in.

With her arm hooked through Ben's, she made her way up the aisle of the church. The church was standing room only, she hadn't realized how many people she and Ezra had come to know, but they were all there. Despite everyone being there, she only had eyes for Ezra, and judging by the way he watched her come towards him, he felt the same.

He wore a black suit coat and an impeccably clean white shirt. A bow tie perched expertly at his throat and he had obviously polished his shoes that morning, they were so shining you could see your reflection in them. He was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on and suddenly Aggie thought she might burst into tears.

Aggie's dress wasn't white, but ivory, which is a more forgiving colour to work with she had explained, and it suited her complexion better. The skirt brushed the floor and hung in pleats until it narrowed at her waist, connecting to the bodice with a row of small Mother of Pearl buttons up the back. Beautifully delicate lace formed the collar and cuffs, and ran up the front of the bodice.

It was quite the contrast next to Ben, his large size and dark suit moving alongside her up the aisle. She looked so pleased Ezra was infinitely happy the Chris had suggested he send a telegram asking him to attend. He would owe Larabee for that one, but to make Aggie happy any debt was worthwhile.

When they came together at the front of the church, each with their closest friends lined up next to them, it was the happiest moment either of them had experienced. Everyone in the church watched them but they only watched each other, reciting the vows that Josiah laid out for them there was heartfelt emotion in every word. Aggie felt the whole room swell with love, most of all in her own heart as finally Josiah announced that they were man and wife and Ezra could kiss his bride.

A cheer went up that shook the whole room when Ezra wrapped his new wife in a firm embrace and gave her a profound kiss. Both of them were flushed and laughing with joy when they broke apart. Out on the street they were pelted with rice and well wishes from what seemed like the entire town.

Aggie felt dizzy she was so happy, a constant swarm of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Ezra wouldn't let her go for a moment, he kissed her cheek and held her arm in his.

"Well son, you've done it," Maude said, coming up to them during a lull in the congratulations.

"And I have never been happier," Ezra said pointedly. "And you, Mrs. Standish the younger?" he asked, turning to Aggie.

"Never," she agreed.

"Take care of my son, Agatha," Maude said, making no move to embrace or touch her new daughter in law. "Write sometimes. I must be going, I'm on the evening stage," she said, by way of goodbye.

"Goodbye, Mother," Ezra said coolly.

Aggie felt pained by the exchange, wondering if she had somehow caused a rift between mother and son, but Ezra turned and kissed her, giving her a look that said what had occured between him and Maude was of little to no concern to him. "My beautiful bride," he said, "You are all that matters to me."

Chris came over with Mary close behind him. He gave Aggie a light embrace and extended his hand for Ezra to shake. "Take care of her Standish. I hear any different and you're a dead man."

There was only a hint of humour in his voice, and Aggie was sure his threat was genuine. Ezra appeared to believe it as well, he shook Larabee's hand solemnly. "I have no intention otherwise, my good sir," he said.

The party lasted well on into the night and early eyes of the morning. Ezra and Aggie left after night had fallen and everyone was too well fed, drunk and jovial to notice their departure. There was not yet a house to replace the shack on Aggie's land, so they returned to Ezra's room in the hotel where they had spent their first night together. This time there was no need for secrecy or hesitation. They made love passionately and with abandon, several times, while music from their own wedding reception drifted in on the breeze.

Ezra stroked her cheek and gazed at her sleepily, full of love.

"I've never been this happy," Aggie said contentedly.

A great, masculine hoot went up outside followed by peals of laughter. Aggie guessed one of the Seven was heavily intoxicated and making an ass of himself for everyone else's entertainment. The thought amused her; they were all good men, but she knew in her heart that she had secured the best of them.

Running a hand affectionately over Ezra's chest Aggie kissed him hard and rolled over so that he was flat on his back with her on top of him. He didn't object, but busied himself running the palms of his hands over her back and cupping the cheeks of her rear. Their kissing took on a more insistent tone and she felt him grow hard beneath her, pushing against her belly.

She was deliciously sore from their previous couplings but she took him in the palm of her hand and placed him at her entrance. With absolute ease and gentleness he let himself be engulfed by her, pleasure running through every nerve in his body. They stayed that way, locked together, wanting nothing more than to embrace each other and enjoy the sensations their bodies created together. His kisses became tender, a mere brushing of his lips against her skin.

"We haven't talked about a honeymoon," he said suddenly, wrapping his leg around her and pulling her down on his full length.

She gasped in surprise and gripped his arms with both hands, breaths coming in short bursts.

"Where would you like to go?" she asked, when she could speak again.

"Anywhere, so long as it's with you," he answered, moving inside of her in a way he had already discovered she enjoyed.

When she had collapsed on his chest and was nearly overcome by sleep, he stroked her hair and dozed as the party began to die down outside.

 _I'm the luckiest man on earth,_ he thought, looking down the length of her body. Her red hair lying in damp strands on her shoulders, the pale skin, although terribly marred by burns, was still as appealing and desirable to him as the finest classical paintings of Greek goddesses and temptresses. The swell of her buttocks and the way her legs fell alongside one of his own were enough to send his heart hammering away in his chest.

"I love you," he whispered, not certain she was awake enough to hear him. Her hand snaked down and found his own free hand which she squeezed affectionately.

"Maybe I'll take you to New York," he murmured. "Or Paris? Someplace in Italy? Somewhere beautiful, somewhere you deserve to go."

"I don't care if we never leave this bed," she said, her words slurred by sleep.

Ezra smiled, his gold tooth invisible in the darkness of the night. But she knew it was there. And as she fell into true sleep she knew his love for her was there in the room with them, too. She could feel it in the steady rythm of his heart when she laid her head down on his chest. Her own heart seemed to skip and change beats, until it beat in perfect time with his.

 _This is happiness,_ they both thought, as sleep settled in over them like a warm blanket.


End file.
